Risk and Return
by catharticone
Summary: Unexpectedly thrust into a dangerous situation, will Edward risk his family's secrecy to ensure Bella's safety?
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer**__: Twilight _and its characters are the creation of Stephenie Meyer, and no infringement is intended**.**

_**Author's Note:**_ I wrote this story some time ago and posted it on another site. However, I thought readers here might enjoy it. For those who frequent a particular site devoted solely to Twilight fanfiction, you may have read this one already… If not, I hope you enjoy it!

This is set shortly after _Twilight__**.**_

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><p>Statistically, Forks, Washington is among the rainiest places in the United States. That fact was one of the primary reasons my family had returned to settle in the small logging town. On average, precipitation graces the area over two hundred days per year. This means that cloud cover shrouds the sun's revealing rays two-thirds of the time. At least that's what should occur. Unfortunately, late June brought unusually sunny weather; there wasn't a cloud in sight for eight days in a row.<p>

This meant that I could only see Bella at night, and I missed her terribly. I suppose I may have been slightly irritable at her absence, but I had only had her back with me, safe and relatively sound, for a handful of weeks—little more than a moment to a creature whose lifespan measures eons rather than decades—and I craved her warm, wonderful, vibrant presence.

She had nearly recovered from the injuries she had sustained during James' attack. The cast had been removed from her leg several weeks ago, and all of the cuts and broken ribs were healed. The horrendous bite on her wrist had faded to a pinkish crescent, which she claimed it wasn't painful anymore. Still, it was a tangible, wrenching reminder of my failure to protect her.

I had anticipated numerous trips to our meadow, gradually lengthening hikes to help her recover full strength in her leg, and leisurely strolls through Port Angeles and Seattle to browse in bookstores. These plans, however, were thwarted by the infernally sunny weather, in more ways than one.

As I stood frowning near one of the living room windows, I wondered somewhat facetiously if there were such a thing as seasonal affective disorder in reverse: a growing sense of despondency as days drenched in sunshine stretched on and on...

I sighed and reached for my phone. Bella was scheduled to work until 6:00, but as soon as she returned home, I planned to remain with her until morning. I hated that she had gotten a job. It was part of the reason I was unable to see her during the day. Even with full sun, there was nothing to prevent her from coming to visit me—until she accepted the part-time position at Newton's Outfitters. She had been scheduled to work just a few hours a day initially, but the damned sunny weather brought a flurry of outdoor activity with it, and it seemed that all of Forks and the surrounding communities were flocking to sporting goods stores to purchase supplies for hikes, fishing trip, and camp-outs. This business boon meant that Mrs. Newton needed more help, and she upped Bella's hours to full-time while the frenzy lasted.

Bella had worked for the past six days straight, from eight in the morning until six at night. That was more than full-time, I fumed, as I considered whether I could file some sort of complaint on her behalf. Weren't there laws against barely recovered, still delicate young women working more than eight hours per day? Even if Mrs. Newton did permit her to sit on a high stool at the cash register, the unreasonably long shifts were surely draining.

Unfortunately, Bella was pleased to have the additional hours. She planned to bolster her tiny college fund, despite my assurances that she wouldn't need to pay a penny for tuition or expenses. She dismissed me summarily, insisting that she could manage on her own. She always resisted my offers to help her financially, even though it was literally nothing to me, at least not monetarily.

I punched in the store's number and waited, hoping Bella would answer. When I heard Mike's voice, I suppressed a growl of frustration.

Instead, I asked with forced politeness, "May I speak with Bella, please?"

"She's ringing up a customer now," he replied rather stiffly; of course he knew who was calling.

"I'll wait."

"Suit yourself."

I could hear many sounds throughout the store, but the one upon which I focused was Bella's beautiful voice. The words didn't matter; it was the melodious tone that captivated me. I found myself growing anxious to speak directly to her. My fingers drummed against the glass, causing a minor reverberation through the panes.

"Hello?" Bella asked when she finally came to the phone.

That idiot Newton hadn't told her who was calling.

"Bella," I breathed.

"Edward!"

I loved the excitement in her tone. I could visualize the gorgeous blush creeping over her cheeks as I spoke her name.

"Are you all right, love?" I asked. "You've been working all day."

"I'm fine. I've been sitting at the register most of the time."

She knew I worried about her becoming fatigued if she had to put sustained pressure on her leg. I wanted to ask how many hours 'most of the time' meant, but instead I inquired, "Are you going to be finished at six?"

"Yes, I think so."

"Good. I'll pick you up."

"Okay."

"You're going to have to come out to the car, though," I apologized. "It looks like the sun will still be out in full force."

"It's fine, Edward," she replied. I knew she was slightly exasperated yet secretly pleased with my persistently Victorian manners.

"All right. I'll see you in an hour." I rested my head against the smooth glass and added, "I love you, Bella."

"I love you, too," she said softly.

Reluctantly I hung up. My fingers returned to their impatient tapping as I waited for the next interminable hour to pass.

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><p>The moment Bella opened the car door, her enticing fragrance enveloped me. I inhaled shallowly, savoring the delectable scent. She shut the door then scooted over into my embrace. I kissed her lips softly and permitted myself to nuzzle her hair for a few moments.<p>

"Mmm, it smells good in here," she murmured against my chest.

"Yes, it does," I replied blissfully.

She laughed and pulled back to peek between the seats. "I meant it smells like dinner. I'm starving!"

I frowned and studied her carefully. She didn't seem particularly pale; in fact, her cheeks were pink. When she exhaled, I took a slow, deep breath, analyzing her scent. Her blood sugar was a little low.

"When was the last time you ate?" I asked worriedly.

"I had a granola bar around noon," she replied.

"That's all? Bella, a granola bar does not provide adequate nutrition!" I admonished. Of course I couldn't be angry with her, so I directed my pique elsewhere. "Mrs. Newton should know better. There are rules and regulations that employers are supposed to follow. You're supposed to get a lunch break—at least thirty minutes and preferably a full hour. And you need a real meal, with protein and complex carbohydrates to help you sustain your energy—"

She shook her head. "I'm fine, Edward. We were just really busy today."

I narrowed my eyes at her. "I have half a mind to start bringing you lunch every day, sun or no sun. At least that way I'll know that you're getting proper nutrition."

"You can take me to lunch tomorrow," she said with a grin. "I have the day off."

The degree of relief and excitement that flooded me may have been slightly out of proportion to this bit of news. Outwardly calm, I replied, "Well, that's good. It's about time."

"I thought we could go to Port Angeles for the day."

"I'll have to check the weather forecast," I said. We both understood this meant consulting with Alice. "If it's still going to be sunny, I'm sure we can think of something else to do."

She nodded, but she seemed a little disappointed.

"Was there something in particular you wanted to do in Port Angeles?" I inquired.

"Just a couple of places I wanted to check out," she replied with a small, casual shrug. "But I guess it can wait…"

I heard her heartbeat quicken a bit. "What is it, love?" I prodded gently.

"It's just that there's a special promotion that's only going to last a couple more days," she said. "I was hoping to get there in time to take advantage of it." Her cheeks grew pink, and her gorgeous scent caressed my senses.

I knew she always felt embarrassed that she had to watch her finances so carefully. Clearly there was something she wished to purchase and felt would be an extravagance at another time.

"Well then," I relented easily, unable to deny her anything, "we'll go regardless of the weather. If the sun is out, we can just stay in the shade."

She smiled, appearing relieved. "Thank you, Edward." She gave me a kiss. As if in punctuation, her stomach growled. She grimaced lightly. "Sorry!"

"You're only human," I said with the greatest affection. "So let's get some dinner into that vocal belly of yours."

She giggled as we drove away. I cherished the joyful expression on her face and vowed that whatever she wanted to buy tomorrow would be hers, even if I had to sneak back to purchase it. My Bella deserved the world, and I intended to provide it for her.

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><p><em>To be continued…<em>


	2. Chapter 2

Alice assured me that the day would be cloudy. A summer storm system was moving in during the night; it would provide overcast skies until about 2:00. Bella and I could spend the morning and early afternoon strolling through Port Angeles, browsing to her heart's content.

"There's something she wants to buy," I confided to Alice, hoping that my sister could give me a hint about Bella's intentions.

Her brow furrowed and she tapped a finger against her pursed lips. "Hmm!" Alice shook her head. "A book?" she muttered to herself.

I saw an image of Bella holding a tattered hardcover, then Alice's mind filled with shoes.

"No," I said, "that's not what she's going to buy!"

"I didn't say it was," Alice replied. "That was just wishful thinking." She looked a little disappointed.

"Then what is it?" I prodded. "What's Bella planning to look at tomorrow?"

"You'll see," she replied. From her expression I could tell that she was a bit bemused. She sighed. "Humans. If she'd only let me give her some advice…" Then her voice trailed off, her attention shifting elsewhere. I realized that Jasper had just entered the house.

"Anyway," Alice tossed over her shoulder as she flitted away, "it'll be a nice day for whatever she wants to do. Have fun!"

I'm not sure if it was intentional, but she managed to keep me out of her thoughts for the rest of the evening. She was engaged in activities with Jasper that I absolutely did not wish to overhear.

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><p>As usual, I spent the night with Bella, listening to the small noises she made while she slept. She mumbled a few words from time to time, but for the most part her slumber was deep and relatively peaceful.<p>

She began to wake just after eight. She'd slept nine-and-a-half hours, reminding me again that she was working too hard and over-taxing herself. I vowed to give her a leisurely, restful day with plenty of time devoted to sitting in coffee houses and lounging in bookstores.

Bella winced slightly as she got out of bed, her hand rubbing at her leg. I knew it was often stiff in the mornings. She needed some more time in the whirlpool bath, I decided. After we returned from Port Angeles, I would take her to our house and be sure she spent at least half an hour in Esme and Carlisle's tub.

For the moment, I had to be content with the knowledge that she was taking a hot shower. I told her not to rush, reminding her that we had plenty of time before the sun appeared again. Even so, she seemed anxious to eat her breakfast and get going.

"I'll just have this on the way," she said, depositing the hot Pop-tart onto a napkin.

She swallowed a few mouthfuls of orange juice then reached for a small purse. She slipped it over her shoulder and beneath the opposite arm. I couldn't recall ever seeing her carry a purse like that before. It was probably one of Alice's fashion suggestions.

"Okay," she chirped, "let's go!"

I smiled at her cheerfulness. "You seem eager to get there," I commented as we walked to the car. "That must be some sale. Is it at one of the bookstores?"

She shook her head. "No," she said quietly, "it's not at a bookstore."

Still curious, I quirked an eyebrow at her. "Are you shopping for clothes?"

With a little laugh, she replied, "No!" She tucked the purse against her side then fastened her seatbelt.

I sensed that further information was not immediately forthcoming. "You'll have to tell me eventually," I said lightly, "so that I'll know where to park. It's already drizzling, and I don't want you out in the rain any more than you have to be." I glanced at her leg meaningfully.

"A little exercise won't hurt," she said, a hint of endearing stubbornness in her tone.

I shook my head. "You know the damp weather will make it ache. I don't want you to be in pain." My voice was serious now.

She rested her warm hand over my arm. "I'm fine, Edward. Really."

My dubious glance prompted her to add, "But I'll be sure you park close to where I need to go, all right?"

I lifted her hand to kiss it then shifted my focus to the road as I pulled out of the driveway. "All right," I agreed. "So, will we be going to the mall?"

"Really, Edward," she sighed, "you just don't give up!" I saw her smile from the corner of my eye.

"I'm a very persistent creature," I responded with a small grin of my own. "But I suppose I can be patient for a little longer."

Yet my curiosity was building, and if the truth were told, I couldn't wait to discover her destination. I promised myself that I would return to the mystery store as soon as possible to purchase at least one item she might admire but feel was too extravagant or too impractical to buy for herself.

The trip was pleasant; the light rain had no impact on my driving. Indeed, the grey sky buoyed my mood. Perhaps the pattern was changing and today's clouds heralded the return of the area's usual weather. That would mean fewer hikers and campers flocking to Newton's, ostensibly resulting in reduced work hours for Bella. I anticipated many days spent with her in my arms.

As we neared Port Angeles, I gestured toward the first exit, which would take us to the mall. "Here?" I asked.

"Nope," she replied. "Keep going."

I noticed her hand move over her purse. "Bella, you really do need to tell me where we're going. I don't want to miss the exit…"

"You won't."

I continued on the highway, nearing the downtown area. There were a handful of shops here, but most of the buildings housed various businesses—professional offices, banks…

"Get off on Thatcher," she instructed, pointing toward the sign indicating our exit.

I complied, then asked, "Which way now?"

"East," she replied confidently. "Then turn on Ferry—left."

I could tell that she had memorized the directions. I rifled through my knowledge of Port Angeles; my flawless memory contained several images of city maps. Ferry was a short street, perhaps four blocks long, that terminated in a dead-end. I had never driven down this particular street, however, so I had no information about any businesses that might be found lining it. Looking ahead, I saw a small office building, an insurance agency, a little coffee shop, and a hair salon. None of those seemed likely candidates for Bella's business, unless Alice had convinced her to purchase some high-end hair products. I glanced at Bella to find her gaze searching the end of the street.

Suddenly she pointed and said, "You can park there, Edward."

A vacant stretch of curb had caught her attention. "Is this close to where you want to go?" I inquired.

She nodded. "Yes. This will be fine."

As we got out of the car, she clutched her purse to her hip. I wrapped my arm around her shoulders. "So, is it the salon?"

"The salon?" she repeated, then she saw the business to which I'd referred. "Oh, no! Not even close! It's just up ahead, at the end of the street."

The drizzle had ceased, but the sidewalk remained slick. I kept a gentle grip on her waist as we walked. We passed two vacant buildings. Beyond them I saw only an alley. Bella's brow creased. She seemed to be wondering about our destination, too. But as we approached the unoccupied structures, I noted another small building set slightly back off the street.

"The address is 4238," I reported, "but I can't see the rest of the sign."

"That's the right address," she confirmed.

As we rounded the neighboring building, the sign came into view: _Puget Sound Savings and Loan._

"A bank?" I questioned, truly surprised. "We're going to a bank?"

"Yes. They're running a special right now—it ends tomorrow. They're offering 5.2 percent on a twelve-month CD."

Now it all made sense. She wanted to put her earnings into what she perceived as a high-yield account. With a few words from Alice, I could double Bella's money in a handful of weeks; there was no need for her to purchase something as sluggish as a CD.

But the look on her face convinced me to remain mute on the subject. Her eyes sparkled with excitement and a hint of pride. This was undoubtedly the first adult financial decision she had ever made.

I smiled at her. "You did some research, it seems."

"Oh yes. Well, first I saw the ad in the paper, but then I did some checking, and that's one of the best rates available right now. I know my money will be safe, and I'll earn enough interest on it to pay for an extra textbook or two when I start college."

I couldn't resist leaning in to deliver a quick kiss to her brow. "Come on, then, let's get you on the road to financial success."

She squinted up at me for an instant. "Are you making fun of me?"

"No, love, never. Really, I'm proud of you."

"Thanks."

Her heart sped up a bit as we entered the small building. There were three teller's windows near the door and a desk with several chairs toward the back. One customer stood with the single teller, and a second one consulted at the desk with the loan officer, who glanced up at Bella with a nod and a smile. The woman appeared slightly harried, and her thoughts flickered between the bonus she would earn if she could convince her customer to get a bank credit card, and concern over another absent employee who was recovering from surgery.

I stopped listening so that I could focus upon Bella. She was reaching into her purse for her thin checkbook. She had tucked the paycheck from Mrs. Newton inside.

"I just have enough for the minimum," she said. "Thank goodness for overtime!"

I did not share her sentiment, but I had to smile at her excitement. "I'll take you anywhere you want to go for lunch," I offered. "We can celebrate your first step toward financial freedom."

"I guess you have about a hundred CDs and a huge stock portfolio," she said.

"Mmm. Something like that," I hedged. "I'd be happy to help you find some good investments, if you like."

She narrowed her eyes at me. "Would it involve Alice's particular skills?"

"Probably—a little," I confessed. "But I've studied finance and economics, so usually I like to do most of the research on my own."

"Well, at the moment I only have enough for this," she gestured toward the advertisement in the window. "But if I ever have anything extra, maybe I'll let you help me a little."

The door opened, and a man stepped inside. I noticed idly that rain had begun falling in earnest. The customer at the teller's window turned around; she had finished her transaction. She sighed and rummaged in her large purse for an umbrella. The teller smiled at Bella, who walked toward her.

"I want to get a CD," Bella said, her heart thumping adorably fast.

The teller nodded. "Margery can help you with that. She'll be finished in a couple of minutes." She nodded toward the loan officer.

"Thanks," Bella responded, moving back to my side.

The new customer shuffled toward the teller. He looked rather dejected, and his thoughts reflected despair. His savings were depleted, bills were piling up… He was hoping to find a little money in an old account of his mother's, but he had lost the information. She had died some years ago. He would have to convince the teller to search for the account then permit him to withdraw whatever funds remained. He began speaking with her.

The man at the loan officer's desk stood, shaking the employee's hand. She was smiling; she had been successful in her efforts to sell him on the credit card. His thoughts flashed on a plasma television he'd had his eye on. With the good interest rate on his new card, he would be able to buy it…

I sighed mentally at humans' general lack of rationality when it came to money matters. It was one thing to purchase luxury items when one had sufficient cash and savings. It was quite another to buy haphazardly and waste limited resources on interest payments. I was glad that Bella was not so impulsive with her own money.

The man turned around and took a few steps before pausing, his gaze first falling upon me. Like nearly all humans, his mind wavered between inexplicable attraction and a strange urge to recoil from me. But then he glanced at Bella, and his thoughts immediately shifted. He recognized her.

"Isabella?" he asked, striding forward. "Charlie Swan's daughter, right?"

She looked up at him, offering a small, apologetic smile. "I'm sorry… you work with my dad?"

He nodded and held out his hand. "Mark Lindstrom."

"Oh!" Her little laugh was delightful. She clasped his hand warmly. "I'm sorry. I didn't recognize you out of uniform. And didn't you used to have a beard?"

He grinned, running a hand over his cheeks. "Yep, until about a week ago. My brother got married, and his wife wanted all the groomsmen to be clean-shaven." He shrugged. "It'll grow back eventually."

His eyes flicked to me again. Bella did not miss the gesture. "This is Edward Cullen," she said pleasantly.

Lindstrom immediately shook my hand. "One of Dr. Cullen's kids," he confirmed.

I nodded. "Pleased to me you, sir."

Lindstrom chuckled. "Charlie's said you kids are all polite, just like that dad of yours."

"Thank you," I replied. I eased my hand away before he could fully process how cold my skin felt.

Fortunately the woman with the umbrella was still struggling with her massive bag. The umbrella dangled from her wrist, suspended by a strap, while she attempted to rearrange the contents of her purse so that it would close. She muttered a mild curse, momentarily drawing our attention.

"Rain again," I commented. "It's gotten chilly out there."

Lindstrom nodded. "Doesn't look too bad. So, what're you kids doing in Port Angeles?"

"I'm opening an account here," Bella said.

"Oh yeah, your dad mentioned you'd been working at Newton's," Lindstrom replied.

"I'm going to get a CD," she said a bit shyly.

"Yeah? Good for you." He was genuinely impressed with her desire to save. "Looks like you and I had the same idea." He held up several folded sheets of paper. "Good rate here."

Bella laughed lightly at the coincidence. "So you're off duty today?" she asked.

"Yep. Back to the old grind tomorrow, though." He glanced at the clock on the wall. "It was nice to see you, Isabella." He acknowledged me with a quick nod. "Edward."

"Have a nice afternoon, Deputy Lindstrom," Bella said.

Then several things happened in very short succession. I heard the man at the teller's window raise his voice and immediately realized that his request had been denied. Desperation fueled his anger. His head jerked around; he'd caught Bella's final words: _Deputy Lindstrom._

The other customer's thoughts were a loud mass of perturbation as she struggled further with her bag. I had conditioned myself to move slowly around humans, so when the umbrella at the woman's wrist suddenly popped open I didn't react as my instincts dictated. One of the sharp spines snapped out to catch Bella's sleeve. In another circumstance, my hand would have intercepted the offending bit of metal long before it touched her, but here and now I merely stood and watched, my fingers twitching slightly with the need to prevent this small debacle. I inhaled slowly, attempting to determine whether Bella had been cut. I caught a faint hint of blood.

Both she and the woman gasped in surprise. I reached out to touch Bella's arm, spending a few seconds disentangling the spine from the fabric of her shirt. My phone vibrated in my pocket, but I ignored it momentarily.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" the woman said. "Are you okay?"

Bella nodded automatically as I worked on her sleeve. "It's just caught—snagged, it looks like," she replied. "I don't think it cut me." This last comment was for my benefit.

Lindstrom had stepped forward, too, watching the proceedings. As I finally freed the metal, he reached for the umbrella to help straighten it. I slid up Bella's sleeve to examine her arm. There was a thin abrasion marring her creamy skin, but it was not bleeding.

"See," Bella said softly, her fingers brushing over my hand, "it's all right. It's just a scrape."

"I'm glad," I murmured.

The man at the teller's window had turned to watch the minor accident. He focused for an instant on the deputy's hip, where his jacket had shifted to reveal a holster. A single thought flashed through the customer's mind: _He's got a gun._

My phone buzzed again. I reached into my pocket, glancing for an instant at the screen. Alice was calling. She had probably seen the umbrella mishap and was phoning to warn me about potential for a whiff of blood.

In that second during which my attention was elsewhere, the man lunged forward and pulled the weapon from Lindstrom's hip. The deputy reached for him, but he was fast, stepping back and cocking the gun before Lindstrom could catch his arm. In his mind I saw a brief image of military training; the man knew how to handle the pistol, and his thoughts revealed that he would not hesitate to use it.

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><p><em>To be continued…<em>


	3. Chapter 3

My first instinct was to protect Bella. I moved her behind me before she realized what had happened. My phone continued to vibrate insistently, telling me that Alice had foreseen this event.

My mind raced as I considered my options. I could easily remove the gun from the man's hand and erase the threat so quickly that he wouldn't even realize what I had done until it was over. But there would be five witnesses, four of whom would surely question the superhuman speed with which I had disarmed the gunman—and one of whom was a deputy who worked with Charlie Swan. I had also noticed the standard security camera mounted high upon the wall. We were being filmed, and it was likely that the scene was recorded elsewhere, as well as within the camera.

Forcing myself to consider prudence, I hesitated and waited to see what would happen. If the situation escalated, I could still act in an instant.

"Edward—" Bella began, peering over my shoulder. "Oh!" She saw the weapon. Her heart thumped rapidly, thrumming against my back.

"Easy, son," Lindstrom began, his foot inching forward.

The man shook his head fiercely, his finger slipping over the trigger. "No, don't move. Everyone stay where you are."

The teller stood stiffly at the window. He looked at her briefly then gestured with his left hand, the gun still firmly held in his right. "Get out from behind there. Don't touch anything!" Of course he feared she would hit the panic button.

I scanned her thoughts quickly. She hadn't activated the silent alarm yet but was debating whether she should.

"Don't!" he said preemptively. I suppose one didn't need to be a mind-reader to know what she was considering.

His tone convinced her to step out of the cage without alerting the police to the situation. She was very frightened, her mind filling with bloody images of gunshot wounds. I could hear five human hearts hammering; the others' thoughts paralleled hers.

The gunman shifted around as she stepped in front of him. "All of you get over there," he ordered, motioning toward the far corner. "Lock the door and close the blinds," he added as the teller passed the window. "Put up the closed sign, too."

Her hands shaking, she complied.

"Look," the loan officer said quaveringly, trying to find a little strength. "People will wonder… if we're closed during business hours, someone will notice."

"It's not that busy," he retorted, "and I'll be out of here soon. I just need you to clean out the drawers and give me whatever cash you've got."

I still held my phone in my hand. His eyes swept the room and each of us.

"Drop that," he said curtly, pointing the gun at my phone. I did as he asked, permitting my hand to open. Bella jumped when the phone hit the floor. I slid my hand around to offer her a reassuring touch.

"Get out from behind him," the would-be robber ordered, jerking the gun toward Bella. "Move out where I can see you."

I suppressed a growl. I could not permit him to threaten Bella. Lindstrom shot a quick, curious look at me; he'd heard the low rumble in my throat.

"I'm okay," she murmured in an effort to calm me.

I clenched my teeth as Bella shifted to stand beside me. Immediately I clasped her hand.

"Purses," the man commanded curtly. "Phones, too."

Bella and the customer dropped their bags to the floor. The loan officer remained motionless. Indeed, no one had moved into the corner yet.

"Listen, son," Lindstrom tried again. "Let's just talk—"

"Shut up! Just get out your phone. Don't try anything." His finger twitched over the trigger.

The deputy slowly removed his phone from his front pocket, wishing fervently that he carried a second weapon. He dropped the phone then held up his hands placatingly. "Okay, no phone," he said.

"You," the man snapped, gaze darting to Bella. "Kick those over here."

Bella took a step forward and stumbled. I had to restrain my hand forcibly, reaching out at human speed to catch her arm just before she hit the ground. I helped her to regain her balance, then she toed her purse to join the other woman's. Using her foot, she slid the two abandoned phones toward the purses.

"Now kick them to me," the man directed brusquely.

Bella employed the side of her foot to deliver a soft kick to the small pile. It only moved a few inches.

The man glared at her. My eyes narrowed at him, but I remained quiet.

"Get them over here. Now!" he ordered.

She delivered a more solid blow to the items. I heard her heart rate spike as a little gasp escaped her. She had used her injured leg, and it had caused her pain. The purses and phones skittered across the floor as Bella struggled to remain standing. My legs burned with the need to go to her.

"What's the matter with you?" the gunman asked her angrily. "What are you trying to pull?"

"I'm sorry," she said softly. Finally she'd managed to get both feet firmly upon the ground, but her pulse was still significantly elevated.

"She had a broken leg," I said through gritted teeth. "It's still healing. She's in pain."

He scowled at me. "All of you, over in the corner, now."

Bella shuffled back to me, and I quickly wrapped my arm around her waist to offer her some support.

"I'm all right," she said softly.

The man shouted, "No talking!"

Everyone moved toward the far wall. The loan officer glanced at her desk; I followed her gaze to the small cell phone beside her computer. The thief did not miss this. He was sharp and observant, his mind alert to any possible threat.

"Throw that over here," he barked.

As her shaking hand reached for the phone, I noticed the name plate on her desk: Margery O'Brien. She tossed the phone toward him then stepped back to the corner.

He nodded at the teller. "You got a phone on you?"

She shook her head. "It's… it's in my purse, in the bathroom."

She pictured the small washroom in her mind. Her purse hung on a hook with her jacket.

She was telling the truth. I quickly searched my companions' thoughts to determine if anyone was hiding anything. I wouldn't risk the wrath of our captor if he discovered a hidden phone or weapon.

He pointed the gun at the teller. "Throw over your keys." He planned to clean out the cash drawers.

She looked to Margery, who gave a nod of consent, saying, "Go ahead, Lisa."

Lisa pulled the keys from her wrist and hurled them across the room. As the man bent to retrieve them, his eyes upon us the entire time, Lindstrom whispered, "What's his name?"

Lisa swallowed then answered quickly, "Raymond Halsman."

"Quiet!" Raymond yelled as he sidled around behind the teller's window.

I had positioned Bella at my side again, keeping my arm around her. I could shield her in an instant if necessary. She leaned into me, one hand clutching at my shirt. I moved my thumb up and down over her hip, hoping to reassure her with the small motion.

I heard Lisa's and Margery's heartbeats accelerate as Raymond jerked open the first drawer. The same image filled both of their minds: Two armed guards carrying bags from the building. In Raymond's thoughts, I saw the nearly-empty drawers and heard his disappointment and growing ire.

"Shit!" he hissed, lifting the gun slightly higher. It was aimed squarely at Lisa. "What the hell?" he demanded, kicking at the little door that permitted entry and egress from the tellers' area. He stormed forward, stopping only a few feet from us.

Margery took a breath. "The armored truck was just here… about an hour ago. We've only had a couple of transactions since then."

"All withdrawals," Lisa added, cringing back automatically.

Raymond waved the gun at Lindstrom and me. "Give me your wallets."

Immediately we both complied, holding out the small folios. He snatched them from us and stuffed them into his back pocket without checking the contents. He planned to take the women's wallets from their purses, too. He wouldn't get as much money as he had hoped, but it was something, at least… He would walk away with enough to cover his immediate needs.

Relief washed over me as I saw his plan to leave as soon as he had taken the other wallets.

Abruptly Lindstrom spoke, his voice relatively steady though his thoughts reflected both fear and excitement. This was his chance to be a hero, to shine in Chief Swan's eyes, and maybe even to get his name in the headlines. He couldn't just permit this criminal to walk away.

"Listen, Raymond," he began.

My phone shuddered on the floor. Alice was calling again. I shook my head infinitesimally, silently pleading for him to remain quiet. I knew the best plan was to let Raymond go.

But the deputy was determined to play his part. Raymond frowned at the use of his name, but Lindstrom continued before he responded.

"Right now this is just an attempted robbery," the deputy said, trying to sound reasonable and calm. "You give me the gun and we're talking about a minimal sentence. But if you walk out of here, all that changes."

"If I walk out of here," Raymond said, "I keep my head above water a little longer. Maybe then I can get back on my feet."

I could hear his desperation. But I could also discern a hint of irrationality in his mind. He was a man on the brink, and I knew it would take little to push him over the edge.

"You won't get away," Lindstrom persisted. "We already know your name—"

"Shut up!" Raymond cried.

I agreed with him completely.

"Just…" Raymond's hand shook so slightly that no one aside from me noticed. "Just everyone stay where you are." He walked swiftly to the door and opened the shade a bit to peer outside.

Lindstrom planned to pursue him the instant he was clear of the bank.

I used his momentary distraction to catch Lindstrom's eye. I shook my head and mouthed, "Don't. Just let him go."

But Raymond's thoughts bombarded me before I could continue. He was aggravated now, both panic and frustration surging through him. A truck had just pulled up directly outside the bank. Four painters were climbing out, preparing to begin work on the vacant building next door as soon as the rain slackened.

"Damn it!" Raymond spat. "Is there another exit?"

"No," Margery replied shakily. "I'm sorry, there's just the front door."

"Windows? What about the bathroom?" he queried, his voice rough.

She shook her head. "It's tiny—" She held up her hands to display the approximate dimensions.

"Shit, shit, shit," he muttered, one hand raking through his hair.

He watched as one of the painters pulled a metal ladder from the truck, but it slipped from his hands, clattering loudly to the curb. The humans all jumped at the unexpected noise.

"What's going on?" Lisa asked anxiously.

"Damn painting crew," Raymond grumbled. "Just setting up now…" He closed the shade then stepped before us again. "Looks like we're gonna be here for a while. So everyone just stay put. Don't move, don't try anything."

"Look, Raymond," Lindstrom began, "we can still end this now. Just put down the gun—"

Raymond lifted the gun higher, aiming it directly at the deputy's head. "Shut the hell up!"

But Lindstrom refused to back down. "You really don't want to do this—"

Raymond laughed harshly. "You're right, I don't _want _to do this. But I have to."

"Okay, then, let's talk about it," Lindstrom tried again.

"I don't want to talk!" Raymond ground out. "I just want everyone to be quiet. I need to think."

I shot Lindstrom a pleading look. Didn't the man have any sense at all? He was only exacerbating the situation.

Unfortunately, my assistance was unwanted. The deputy thought, _Damned rich kid. Who does he think he is, glaring at me like that? Looks like the doc didn't raise him so well after all._

I glanced down at Bella, trying to show Lindstrom that my efforts were solely for her. My fingers curled over her hip.

_Okay, so he's trying to protect her, _the deputy acknowledged. _But he's not a trained officer; I am. And that's Charlie's daughter. We take care of our own…_

My vexation faded a bit as I listened. Well-intentioned as he was, he was still putting the humans at risk with his foolish, self-serving need to play the hero.

Raymond glanced up for a moment. I could hear a distant rumble of thunder. I followed his thoughts as he realized that the darkening skies would reveal the lights inside the bank. If the office were closed, it would be dark inside.

He directed the gun at Lisa. "Turn off the lights," he instructed.

She hurried over to the wall to extinguish the lights. The interior was immediately cast in a gray haze. He hadn't realized how dim the room would be without any artificial illumination. He took several steps back, willing his human eyes to adjust.

This was my opportunity. I could dart across the room in less than a second and wrench the gun from his hand. There was a good chance that no one would see me clearly enough to realize what had happened.

"Don't move," I whispered to Bella.

"Edward, no—"

She caught my wrist. Jerking my arm from her grasp could easily break her fingers. I hesitated for an instant as I quickly yet gently pried her fragile fingers away. And in that tiny fraction of time, Lindstrom acted on impulse; there wasn't even time for his thoughts to betray him.

He shot across the room, his form a shadowy blur to the humans but painfully clear to me. Now I heard his intent: He planned to wrest the gun from Raymond. There was a very real possibility that the weapon would discharge. Instantly I positioned my body before Bella, looping my arm around her and lifting her as I took two rapid steps to the side so that I could partially shield the other three women, too.

Raymond saw the deputy's movement and darted back, but Lindstrom lunged at him. I watched as Lindstrom's hand reached for Raymond's right wrist. His fingers began to close around it, but Raymond wrenched his arm away. Lindstrom was off-balanced, so when Raymond delivered a blow to his chest he fell back. I watched in abject horror as the deputy tumbled, his head striking the solid granite of the tellers' counter with a sickening thud.

"Damn it!" Raymond hissed. "I told you not to try anything!" He spun to face the rest of us, waving the gun furiously. "No one move!"

The women were frozen in fear. I forced myself to remain motionless as well. I could still dash forward and take the gun, subduing Raymond in the process. But then my body went rigid: I smelled blood.

* * *

><p><em>To be continued...<em>


	4. Chapter 4

It took me only a moment to identify the source of the pungent aroma.

"Lindstrom's bleeding," I whispered hoarsely.

"Edward?" Bella queried quietly, immediately concerned for both her father's colleague and for me. "How bad is it?"

"Head wound," I muttered. "There will probably be a lot of blood."

"Oh God," she groaned softly.

"Shut up!" Raymond cried. "Everyone just be quiet! Damn it. Why'd he do that?" He shifted from one foot to the other repeatedly.

The humans' eyes had now adjusted to the darkness, at least sufficiently for the women to see Lindstrom sprawled limply upon the floor. My acute eyesight permitted me to note the small, sticky pool beneath his head.

"Light," Raymond stammered. "I need some light… just enough to see what's coming." His eyes quickly scanned the room. There was a small lamp on Margery's desk. He pointed the gun at it. "Someone go and turn that on."

Margery walked hesitantly toward the desk and reached out slowly to pull the little chain. Now the humans could all see that Lindstrom was unconscious and bleeding.

"Oh my God!" Lisa gasped. "Is he dead?"

The customer had remained mute since Lindstrom had taken the gun, but now she spoke tremulously. "We… we have to call an ambulance. He's… oh lord, look at the blood."

"No," Raymond snapped, "no ambulance. We wait, just like I said before. Once it starts to rain, the painters'll leave. It probably won't be much longer."

"But," she continued, finding a little courage, "if he dies, it'll…it'll be much worse for you."

"What do you mean?" he asked, frowning fiercely.

"If someone dies… during the commission of a crime," she said haltingly, still terrified but hoping to convince him to behave more rationally, "it's not just a robbery anymore—"

He jerked the gun around to aim it at her. "Shit. You're not a cop, too?"

She shook her head, her eyes wide. "No… I'm… I work at a law firm. I'm a paralegal."

He scowled; he didn't know if he should believe her.

Lisa spoke up softly. "It's true. Her paycheck's in my drawer if you want to check… It's from Leeds and Compton. Debra's worked there for a couple of years."

Raymond considered this information. He had no intention of allowing us to call an ambulance, of course, but he balked at the idea of causing the deputy's death. He had never meant for anyone to get hurt. _If that damned cop had just done as he was told…_

The scent of blood was beginning to envelope me. I blinked, hard, and swallowed back venom before I said, "You need to put pressure on the wound." I tried to keep my voice calm, hoping it would assuage my surging hunger, too.

Raymond glared at me. "What?"

I glanced at the deputy, forcing myself to speak slowly. "Head wounds bleed a great deal. He may not be injured that badly, but you won't know until you stop the bleeding."

He knew I was right—without comprehending my reason, of course—but he needed some additional encouragement.

"My father's a doctor," I added. "He talks about his work a lot, and I've helped him in emergencies."

"Yeah?" Begrudgingly, he beckoned, "All right, then come over here."

"Edward," Bella said so softly that only I could hear her.

I squeezed her hand reassuringly and swallowed more venom. The blood was nearly overwhelming. The distinctive smell would hit her senses soon, too. I did not dare to draw a breath; I hoped everyone would be too focused on the deputy to notice that I had stopped breathing. Steeling myself, I walked forward slowly. I could hear Lindstrom's heartbeat: It was slow but steady.

"Drag him back over there," Raymond instructed. "I want you all where I can see you."

I slid my hands under the deputy's shoulders, assiduously avoiding the blood on his neck, and pulled him across the floor. A small, scarlet trail smeared over the tile in his wake. I could hear Bella's heart rate increasing as we neared. She could smell the blood now.

I stopped a few feet away from the four women. Margery was shrugging out of the blazer she wore, intending to use it as a pillow for the injured man. Bella took a step back. Her respiration was becoming ragged. I pulled my hands from Lindstrom and turned toward her. She was pallid, her small hands clenching ineffectually at her sides as she fought against the dizziness.

"What the hell's the matter with her?" Raymond demanded. "If this is some sort of trick—"

I spun back to him. "It's not!" I had nearly shouted, inciting further ire from the already bristling man. Modulating my voice, I said, "She gets faint at the sight and smell of blood. She needs to sit down."

He gave a curt nod of assent, and I helped Bella settle on the floor, her back against the wall.

Margery had placed the folded blazer beneath Lindstrom's head. "He's still bleeding pretty badly," she said. _My God, what if he dies? He's not moving at all. At least he's breathing, but it seems really slow. _

"Are you all right?" I asked Bella.

Her eyes were closed, and her breathing was shallow. "I'll… be fine," she murmured.

"Put your head down," I said softly.

Gently I raised her knees and encouraged her to lean forward. Weakly she wrapped her arms around her shins and rested her forehead against her knees.

"Try to breathe slowly and deeply," I advised.

I twisted my head to look at the others. Debra stood back a little, clasping and unclasping her hands anxiously.

Lisa knelt beside Lindstrom and Margery. She wore a pale pink angora scarf which she pulled off and offered to Margery. The loan officer understood, folding the scarf then pressing it over the wound on the deputy's head.

"We have a first aid kit… in the bathroom," Lisa said, daring to glance at Raymond.

He thought for a few moments. _Maybe there's something in it that'll help…At least it'll show that I was trying to do right by him… _He nodded. "Yeah, okay. Go and get it. But I swear to God, if you try anything, anything at all, I'll shoot."

Lisa stood slowly, holding her hands up as she edged past him.

"Can you get something to clean up the blood on the floor, too?" I requested, sliding my hand into Bella's hair to rest my cool palm over the back of her neck.

_Fainting girl's the last thing we need,_ Raymond acknowledged silently. "Yeah, go ahead," he agreed. "But toss your purse out first." He recalled that she had a phone in her bag and would not risk her using it.

Lisa went into the bathroom, leaving the door open so that he could still see her as she threw her purse across the floor then gathered the kit, paper towels, and a bottle of bathroom cleanser. I was glad she chose the one containing bleach.

My focus on Bella had kept most of the venom at bay, but now it returned to surge down my throat. I swallowed hastily and wondered how quickly Lisa could clean away the blood on the floor.

Lisa returned with the first aid box, setting it beside Margery. Raymond waved the gun at me. "Do what you can to help him."

I gave him a questioning look. The deputy seemed in relatively good hands to me; at least he was in no imminent danger of being devoured by his current attendant.

"Go on," Raymond said snappishly. "You said you know what to do."

He was growing suspicious of me, thinking that I might be attempting some sort of subterfuge. I spent a moment considering whether I should just end this now. Yes, it would be risky, but maybe I could convince the women that they'd been in shock and had misperceived the speed with which I completed my actions. There would be the matter of the security tape, too, but I felt certain that it could be dealt with one way or another.

My phone vibrated again, scritching softly beneath Bella's bag. Alice was trying to warn me. I could only surmise that my current plan would not end well. I drew a single, thin breath, focusing on Bella's beautiful scent as much as possible. She looked up at me with a questioning, concerned expression.

"Just try to relax," I advised softly. "We'll get the blood cleaned up soon."

She nodded and lowered her head again, turning it to the side so that she could watch me. Despite her nausea and dizziness, I knew she was concerned about my reactions. I moved toward Lindstrom as Lisa lifted the bottle of cleaner, waiting until Raymond gave a nod before starting to work on the blood slicked across the floor.

I took a second to assess Raymond, noting that his heart and respiration rates remained somewhat depressed.

"How's the bleeding?" I asked Margery. I opened the first aid kit and began rifling through it.

She lifted the scarf. "It's nearly stopped."

"That's good," I replied, sincerely relieved. "Clean away as much of the blood as you can."

I handed her several packaged alcohol wipes and squares of gauze. The bleach in the cleaner was dissipating some of the intensity of the cloying smell, but venom still prickled against my gums. I swallowed again, waiting for Margery to remove most of the blood from the deputy's hair and scalp before I risked touching him.

I found a resealable plastic bag in the kit and opened it. "Here, you can put the used items inside." Peremptorily, I added, "You'll want to rub down your hands with alcohol, too, just in case."

She nodded in understanding, placing the used materials in the bag. I took it from her and sealed it then scooted around to view the deputy's injury. There was some swelling on his scalp, and the gash was fairly deep. He would require sutures eventually.

I lifted each of his eyelids gently, studying the pupils for a moment. The left one was larger than the right—not a good sign. I pressed my fingertips over his carotid artery. His pulse remained thready. I spoke his name, first softly then more sharply. This elicited no response.

"Is it bad?" Margery asked softly.

Fearing Raymond's reaction if he understood that the injury could be serious, I replied, "He may have a concussion. He might not regain consciousness for some time."

I reached for more gauze, forming a thick pad. To Margery, I said, "Hold this over the wound. We still need to keep some pressure on it."

After she positioned the gauze, I wrapped a bandage securely around Lindstrom's head, hoping to staunch any new blood flow. Lisa had succeeded in removing nearly all traces of the blood from the tiled floor. I gave her a grateful smile then glanced at Bella. Her color had improved marginally.

Some of the tightly coiled tension was dissipating from my body, too, as the smell faded significantly. There was only a slight prickle of venom against my tongue now, and I felt my taut muscles relaxing, no longer poised to spring at my prey the instant I relinquished my forced control.

"Edward," Bella whispered, opening her hand toward me.

I moved back to her side, wrapping my arm around her shoulders.

"Are you all right?" she asked, her voice audible to me alone. She looked up at me, her expression full of concern.

I nodded slightly and offered her a small smile. "How are you feeling?" I asked softly.

"Better," she replied.

Raymond was watching us warily. He didn't like that we were talking, still fearing we'd manage to plot something. However, our words posed no threat that he could discern. Even so, he wanted silence.

"Quiet," he ordered, waving the gun in our direction. "No talking—anyone. And you three," he gestured toward the women, "sit down. I want everyone on the floor."

The employees and customer instantly complied. No one moved or spoke for several minutes. Amid the silence, we all heard the rumble of thunder, and I caught the flash of lightning in my peripheral vision.

I listened intently for even a hint of rain, but I heard nothing aside from the painters' voices and the minor clamor of their buckets and pans as they prepared to work. They had just finished putting up a large tarp to protect the front of the building. The foreman wanted to apply the first coat of paint to the façade. They realized that rain was inevitable but hoped to get at least an hour's work in before the weather became too wet.

According to Alice's forecast, brief showers would be followed by quickly clearing skies and intermittent sunshine. It was entirely possible that the painters would decide to continue their work, remaining at the site late into the day. I cringed at the idea; Raymond intended to stay in the bank until they left.

I searched all of the workers' minds for any suspicions surrounding the bank. Did they wonder why it was closed during normal business hours? Was the single, dull light inside curious? I heard no indications of doubt, though. It seemed no one had really noticed the building next door.

My attention shifted back to Lindstrom. Based upon his symptoms, I suspected he had sustained a fairly serious head injury and was hemorrhaging slowly. He would likely require surgery to relieve the pressure on his brain. His heartbeat and respiration had not changed significantly, so I didn't believe that he was in immediate danger. Still, the sooner he received treatment, the better, and I wasn't sure how long he could wait—perhaps an hour, maybe even two, but certainly not the entire afternoon.

If he began to worsen, I would need to consider taking action again. It would present a very real risk to my entire family, but I could not allow an innocent human to die when it was within my power to save him. He had tried to protect all of us; I would return the favor. Anything less, regardless of the risk, would be unacceptable: It would make me a monster.

Bella seemed to sense the tenor of my ruminations. She squeezed my hand lightly and gave me a questioning look. "He's hurt pretty badly," she surmised in a nearly silent whisper.

I inclined my head slightly to acknowledge her. I heard her heart speed up a little.

"How long does he have?" she murmured.

I shook my head infinitesimally to indicate that I did not know.

Her beautiful brow creased deeply. Very softly, she said, "The painters will leave if it starts to rain, right?"

I shrugged minutely.

She bit her lower lip; she understood my silent response and its implication. She lowered her head again so that Raymond would not see her mouth moving. "He won't leave until they do…What can we do?"

I nuzzled her hair and whispered, "Pray for rain."

Raymond took several rapid steps toward us, the gun firmly in his hand.

"I said no talking! Everyone keep quiet." He gestured with the weapon. "You get away from her. Move over there."

I glared at him. This demand alone was almost enough to spur me to action. However, the women were all watching me closely, and Raymond's thoughts revealed no intentions of harming any of us if we remained compliant. Therefore, angry as I was, the rational part of me recognized that this was not the moment for me to act.

Logical though I might be, however, I was far from imperturbable. A deep scowl accompanied me as I scooted across the floor, positioning myself about five feet from Bella. There was a measure of comfort in knowing that we could still communicate. I would hear anything she murmured, and I felt certain I could convey responses through my expression or other physical means.

My calming thoughts apparently did not affect my countenance, because I found Raymond watching me warily. He perceived that I might remain a threat based upon the look of anger I wore.

He took several steps toward me, aiming the gun directly at my face. "Don't even think of trying anything," he warned. "I'm watching you."

I attempted to smooth my expression somewhat, setting my hands palms-up upon the floor in a gesture of placation. "I'm just sitting here," I said blandly. "I'm not going to do anything."

His narrowed eyes showed that he did not entirely believe me. "You better not."

I listened as his thoughts and body calmed slightly. His gaze shifted to Lindstrom's prone, motionless form. The deputy's chest rose and fell slowly—too slowly, but Raymond did not realize this. He felt relieved that the man was breathing and that the bleeding had ceased. _He'll be okay. Wonder if I should have one of them tie his hands? Wouldn't put it past him to try and come at me again when he wakes up…_

_If he wakes up, _I corrected within my own mind.

Raymond took a few steps back, his eyes flicking toward the purses on the floor. He nudged Bella's bag with his foot.

"Whose is this?" he asked.

Bella's voice was soft yet firm as she said, "It's mine."

He jerked the gun in her direction. "Get up—slowly."

Bella rose, her motions slightly unsteady. I doubt anyone aside from me would have noticed that she placed more weight upon her left leg. I worried that the right one felt stiff or sore. She'd stumbled earlier; what if she'd pulled a muscle or jarred the newly healed bone?

"Here," Raymond said shortly as he tossed the purse at her.

Bella lunged forward instinctively to catch it, her right foot landing solidly on the hard tile floor. A small gasp of pain escaped her, and she began to fall. Instantly my body tensed to leap to her aid, but somehow in that split second during which she flailed she managed to give me a pleading look. She understood that any rash action on my part could result in a multitude of disasters. I literally locked my muscles in place to prevent myself from springing toward her, watching in agony as her fragile little body plummeted.

One of her hands shot out, however, grappling for the edge of the nearby desk. The desk shook at the jolt, sending a spherical glass paperweight rolling across the top. It crashed to the floor as Bella managed to catch onto the wooden corner. She could not entirely prevent her fall, but she slowed herself sufficiently so that she landed on her knees, the impact slightly lessened by the alteration in velocity and force.

Even so, she cried out as her knees hit the floor. Bella shifted to sit on her left leg, wincing as she adjusted the right. With horror I realized that she had landed in the pool of glass shards.

* * *

><p><em>To be continued…<em>


	5. Chapter 5

The sharp bits of crystal seemed to glitter menacingly as Bella's hands hovered above them. I could not tell if she had been cut, though. I inhaled slowly.

Still fighting to keep myself from flying to her side, I uttered, "Bella!"

I began to stand, my movements feeling excruciatingly slow as I struggled to emulate human haste.

"Oh God!" whispered Margery. "Is she all right?"

"I'm… okay," Bella said slowly, taking a few deep, steadying breaths.

"The glass—" I began, my throat tight. "It's everywhere."

Bella's gaze swept over the fragments. "Oh," she breathed. I saw a look of panic begin to cross her face.

"Don't move," I cautioned.

I took a step toward her. My gaze swept over her legs, trying to note any fragments that presented a particularly pressing risk to her.

"Stop!" Raymond snapped at me.

"She might be hurt," I retorted sharply with as much restraint as I currently possessed. "I'm just going to get her away from the broken glass. She doesn't have full mobility in her leg yet; she needs help."

He considered my words for a few moments then finally gave a grudging nod. "Fine, but I swear to God, if you try anything…"

"I won't!" I shot him a flinty glare then focused my attention fully on Bella.

As soon as I reached her, I stooped and told her to put her arms around my neck. I lifted her into my embrace as I stood again, stepping back well away from the glass. Carefully I lowered her to the ground near the wall.

"Are you hurt?" I asked softly, my hands already inspecting her legs for any sharp fragments that might cling to her jeans.

"I don't think any of the glass got me," she said. Her eyes conveyed the significance of this seemingly simple statement.

I nodded, considerably relieved. My sensitive fingers found several tiny splinters behind her left knee, and I quickly removed them. They had not penetrated the fabric; I smelled no fresh blood.

However, she was cradling her hand to her chest. I worried that she had injured it as it struck the desk. I took her hand in mine and carefully uncurled her fingers. Her palm was red, but there were no abrasions. I felt the delicate bones gently, giving her a look of pained regret when she winced.

"It's okay," she murmured.

Raymond loomed above us, but I ignored him. My eyes met hers, and she smiled in reassurance.

"How does your leg feel?" I asked her. "Did you hurt it when you fell?"

She gave a small, unconvincing shake of her head. "No, it's fine."

"Bella," I began.

"You heard her," Raymond interrupted tersely. "She's okay." His gaze upon her was hard yet slightly desperate as he added, "Aren't you?" _Girl can hardly stand on her own two feet… It's not my fault that she fell. I didn't break her damned leg. _

With considerable effort, I suppressed the urge to growl at him.

Bella nodded at Raymond and replied, "Yes, I'm fine."

Then her eyes moved to the purse he had thrown toward her. Her voice was softly apologetic as she said, "I'm sorry I didn't catch it. What did you want from it?"

"The strap," he replied. Deciding not to risk further incidents with Bella, he kicked the bag toward Lisa, pointing at Lindstrom as he ordered, "Pull it off and use it to tie his hands."

"But he's unconscious," Bella began to protest, her innate compassion surfacing automatically.

Raymond glowered at her. "He's gonna wake up at some point. I can't trust him. He could be faking even now."

Lisa had removed the strap. She held it up to show Raymond. He nodded, saying, "Go ahead. Wrap it around his wrists and tie it tight."

Her own hands shook a little as she adjusted the motionless man's arms then wound the strap around his wrists. Raymond watched as she tugged the ends into a chunky knot. The deputy remained utterly still while she worked.

I took a moment to assess his respiration and heart rate. Both had fallen slightly in the last fifteen minutes. His condition was becoming more serious, but I did not believe him to be in immediate danger. Even so, he would require medical intervention soon. Perhaps he had an hour… perhaps less.

A rumble of thunder drew my attention outside to the painters' thoughts. They were studying the sky, feeling the heaviness in the air. A few drops of rain were falling now; I could hear them on the pavement.

Soon a light patter tapped upon the roof. Raymond glanced up, relief washing over him.

_Finally. They'll pack up and be out of here soon… Just have to keep it together a little longer. The deputy's okay… he's gotta be. Everyone's calm, keep 'em sitting and they can't really do anything… So it's all gonna be fine. I just have to get to the car—probably'll have to ditch it pretty fast, since they know my name and can get my license plate number. I can go to Carter's place, though…_

He continued his planning. I would remember every word, of course, and would figure out some way to pass along the information to the authorities.

As the rain fell, I settled beside Bella, wrapping one arm around her shoulders. She leaned into me, her heart thrumming as her eyes moved from Lindstrom to the window. I knew she was worried about her father's friend and anxious about Raymond's departure, hoping he would leave soon.

Fortunately for him, Raymond did not attempt to discourage my proximity to Bella this time. After her fall, I was not convinced that I could tolerate being away from her. Physical separation alone might drive me to take action and resolve the situation sooner rather than later, consequences be damned.

My attention shifted again to the small crew outside. The painters were huddled beneath the tarp, watching the rain. The foreman grumbled about delaying the work another day. He studied the sky then finally told the men to put the supplies back on the truck.

Raymond had moved to the window to risk a few glances through the blinds, although the gun remained trained on the rest of us. I heard relief in his mind as he saw two of the painters carrying their ladders to the truck.

_Good, just a few minutes more…_he thought. _This'll all be over soon. _ His eyes swept the room, noting the frightened expressions on the women's faces as they watched his every move. _Shit, how'd it get this far? I just needed some money…if she'd just let me close out that old account this would never have happened. _He looked at Lindstrom for a moment. _And why'd he have to try to be the hero? He should've left well enough alone. _

While Raymond regretted the deputy's injury, he remained somewhat impenitent; he still blamed Lindstrom rather than himself. I had heard this sort of rationalization in human minds for decades. They desperately tried to deflect culpability from themselves, hating to admit that they had been in the wrong when another person was harmed.

And yet, I reflected, for all my intellectual superiority and physical perfection, I was not so very different from them. I had killed in the past, attempting to avoid guilt in the knowledge that my victims had committed egregious acts against others. Here and now, I would not hesitate to stop Raymond if he presented even the smallest threat to Bella. If he were hurt or even killed in the process, I knew I would feel scant compunction. He would deserve whatever befell him.

I was roused from my musings by a sudden shift in the foreman's thoughts. The rain was slowing to a drizzle, and he could see the clouds beginning to thin.

"Wait," he said to the other men, "it looks like we may be able to finish today after all."

The painters looked up, and through their eyes I saw the lightening sky.

My countenance must have reflected my frustration and disappointment, because Bella asked softly, "What's wrong?"

"Sky's clearing," I replied into her hair.

She pretended to rub her nose as she whispered, "So they're going to stay?"

"I think so," I murmured.

She glanced at Lindstrom, taking a shaky breath. Very quietly, she asked, "The deputy?"

I shook my head minutely.

She read my expression, and her own revealed her distress. "Is he going to die?" she asked softly, tears welling in her eyes.

The gravity of the situation weighed heavily upon me. I could end this now. It would take less than a second for me to remove the gun from Raymond's hand and subdue him. With one phone call, we could have an ambulance here in minutes, and Lindstrom would receive the treatment he needed before it was too late.

But the consequences of such action would linger. Would I be able to convince the women that they had misinterpreted the speed of my movements due to the stress of the situation? Bella would back me up, of course, and her firm conviction would surely help… The surveillance video would have to be dealt with, too, but I suspected Emmett would be happy to oblige me in the clandestine erasure of the evidence at the security company's monitoring site. Still, there was significant risk.

"Edward," Bella whispered. "Please. We can't let him die."

* * *

><p><em>To be continued…<em>


	6. Chapter 6

_**Note:**_ _I combined two chapters, so this installment is fairly lengthy. I hope no one minds; I wanted to keep things moving along for my wonderful and loyal readers!_

* * *

><p>I squeezed Bella's hand gently, rapidly formulating a plan. If I could distract the other hostages—perhaps flick something across the room so fast that they couldn't see it but would hear the noise as it clattered against the wall—then I could dart to Raymond while their gazes were elsewhere. It seemed plausible, viable…<p>

And then my phone pulsed, vibrating subtly upon the tile floor. I knew that Alice was calling, but was she trying to warn me or to encourage me?

Bella's fingers tapped at my hand, silently questioning me. She could not hear the minute noise the phone's slight motion created; she had no idea that my sister was trying to communicate with me.

I swallowed then glanced at the pile of purses. "My phone," I murmured when Raymond's eyes moved quickly to the window again. "I think it's Alice."

Bella's grip tightened. 'What?' she mouthed.

I shrugged my shoulders infinitesimally. Raymond gave us a glare of warning, aware that we were attempting to speak to each other.

Bella pulled up her knees and rested her head upon them. Speaking lower than a whisper, she said, "Squeeze once for yes, two for no."

I increased my grasp fractionally one time.

Her brow still against her knees, Bella asked, "Is Alice too far away for you to hear her thoughts?"

I clasped her warm, soft hand once.

"Were you thinking about what to do just now—about how to get the gun away from him?"

I gave a squeeze in reply.

"Do you think she's trying to warn you against it?"

My fingers curled once, then I waited a moment to give two quick, light squeezes in rapid succession.

"You don't know," she easily surmised.

I provided a nonverbal, affirmative answer.

"He can't hurt you," she said, thinking through the possibilities.

My fingers told her _no._

"But someone else could get hurt."

My thumb caressed her palm once.

"Not if you use your supernatural speed," she suggested quietly.

My hand remained still, and she looked up at me. My eyes flicked to the other women.

Bella lowered her head again. "You're worried they'd see—or rather not see—and there would be questions."

I confirmed this with another single, slight increase in pressure.

"Edward," she exhaled quickly, and I knew an idea had occurred to her. "What if you act like a _human_?"

She peeked up at me through her hair. I responded with a minuscule arch of my eyebrow, unsure about what she meant.

"If you're the threat," she whispered, "he'd focus on you, right? He probably wouldn't aim the gun at anyone else. If it came down to it, he might not even shoot. But even if he did—" She paused, clearly distressed by the idea despite knowing that a bullet could not harm me. "You wouldn't be injured. You could take the gun immediately then subdue him, but all at a normal speed."

I almost smiled at her use of the word _normal._ She did have a point, however. I had persisted in the notion that I would have to use my preternatural powers to resolve the situation, and that had been the crux of my concern. If I simply mimicked a rash yet brave human male, no one would question my behavior. After all, Lindstrom had tried it…

But that could present a problem, too. How would I explain my success? An adolescent managing to wrest the gun away when a trained deputy had failed? What would even drive a young human to try such a thing when he had seen the results of the previous attempt?

My phone reverberated against the floor again, imperceptible to everyone else yet painfully loud to my ears. Alice could see the outcome for this new plan. Surely she also saw that I would be aware of her attempts to communicate with me. I realized with sudden clarity that her calls were definitely meant to serve as warnings against each course I had considered.

But what was wrong with Bella's plan? It would arouse no insurmountable suspicions, and it was highly unlikely that anyone else would be hurt. I could position my body to block any possible gunshots…

"You need a reason," Bella whispered, "something that would provoke you to go at him. Otherwise it won't make sense."

My phone remained mute. Perhaps this was the missing piece of the equation. I gave Bella's hand a grateful squeeze of acknowledgment. But as suddenly as relief began to creep over me, her next words washed it away.

"If you were trying to protect me, you'd take a risk like that," she said, her voice merely a sigh to anyone but me.

Immediately I squeezed her hand twice, then a second later repeated the action. When she lifted her head to look at me, I mouthed, 'No,' leaving no doubt about my reply.

She rubbed at her nose again to hide the movement of her lips. "It's the only thing that makes sense."

This time I hazarded a small shake of my head. My eyes moved to the purse covering my phone, but I heard nothing.

Raymond's abrupt cry of ire drew my attention momentarily. "Damn it!" he spat. Several other more colorful expletives followed in short succession.

Bella scooted a few inches closer to me as my arm tightened around her shoulders. I heard the women's alarmed thoughts at their captor's sudden, intense agitation. He was now aware that the painters were going to stay and continue working.

Margery gathered her courage and asked in a very small voice, "What's wrong?"

Raymond glowered at her. "They're not leaving! Damned weather's clearing, and they're pulling their stuff off the truck again. Goddamn it! It could be hours now!"

Lisa and Debra glanced at Lindstrom, both worried that he would require attention soon. Margery was trying to think of something to say, some calming words, but nothing came to her. She wrung her hands nervously.

Finally she said, "It'll be all right. Maybe the rain will come back—"

Debra nodded. "The forecast called for afternoon showers," she added timidly.

Raymond stepped away from the window, one hand raking through his hair. He had lowered the gun but now lifted it again. "Shut up! Everyone just…be quiet." He swallowed and shook his head. "I have to think."

His agitation was building as his sense of desperation grew. He could see no easy way out now. He had been ready to leave, to walk away from the mess. He didn't want to be here; all he wanted was to get away. For a moment I considered simply speaking with him, telling him that he could leave and we wouldn't call the police. But my phone immediately trembled against the tile, and I knew this idea would not work.

Our problems were compounding quickly. I spared a moment to listen to the deputy's heart and lungs. His respiration was significantly depressed now. He would need treatment very soon. Even if Raymond could manage to wait without losing his control completely, Lindstrom had no time to spare.

Margery began creeping a little closer to the deputy; she did not require a vampire's senses to notice how slowly his chest rose and fell. Concern overrode her caution for the moment.

Raymond spun to face her, aiming the gun at her head. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he demanded.

She looked up with wide, terrified eyes. "I… I'm sorry," she stammered. "But he's barely breathing. I… I wanted to be sure he was okay."

Raymond glared at the prone man then gestured toward me. "Check on him." _Damned cop's probably faking… probably awake already and planning to try something else the second I let down my guard._

Slowly I got to my feet and walked to Lindstrom's side. Dropping to a crouch, I checked his eyes. He did not stir as I lifted each lid. I took his hand, pretending to feel for his pulse while applying pressure to the nail bed on his middle finger. I watched his eyes for any response to the pain, noting a slight flutter of his lids. However, his eyes did not fully open. Beneath the fingers I had resting on his arm, I felt minimal motor response to the pain.

"Mark," I said firmly. "Mark, can you hear me?"

As I anticipated, he did not rouse or show any strong indicator of processing my voice. I did note a slight increase in his heart rate, however. Still, the minuscule eye, verbal, and motor responses indicated significantly impaired neurological function. Now I had objective information; I knew beyond a doubt that he would require imminent intervention.

"Well?" Raymond asked impatiently.

"He's still unconscious," I replied. "I think he will be for some time."

Debra, Margery, and Lisa's thoughts reflected their fear for him. They seemed to comprehend the situation.

Raymond frowned at me_. Kid could be lying. How do I tell if he's lying to me?_

I lifted Lindstrom's bound hands, adding, "If the person doesn't react to pain, it means he's still under pretty deeply. Watch." Once more I applied pressure to the nail bed, again noting very minimal response. After I was certain Raymond had drawn his own conclusion, I prompted, "See?"

_Okay, so maybe the kid's telling the truth. Cop looks pretty bad, actually. Shit, what if he's hurt worse than we think? There was a hell of a lot of blood…_ His troubled mind fumbled to retrieve information from the basic first aid training he had received years ago in the military. _He's been unconscious for what, half an hour? Doesn't seem like he could be faking now, but maybe he was before…_

"I'm sure he'll be all right," I said, keeping my voice calm and reassuring. "My father's told me that a hard blow to the head can cause a long period of unconsciousness, but there's no reason to be concerned if the person's vitals are okay…His pulse feels strong. He'll wake up when he's ready."

"But he's breathing so slowly," Margery said.

"It's like being asleep," I replied, shifting my gaze to her. I used my tone to lull her. "When a person is unconscious, everything slows down. But that's normal; it's just his body's way of recuperating."

Margery's thoughts showed that I had been successful in my attempts to placate her. Lisa and Debra felt less anxious about the deputy, too.

Bella's look showed that I had not deceived her in the least, but I expected nothing less of her. Of course she read the truth behind my words. I saw determination building in the set of her jaw and slight tilt of her chin. Like me, she knew the moment for decisive action was rapidly approaching. Lindstrom's life depended upon it.

But what about Bella's life? I would not risk any harm befalling her. I knew she believed that she was an instrumental part of the plan. However, I had strong reservations about even peripheral participation from her. Again I visualized creating a distraction then darting over to Raymond… and once again I heard the warning tremble of my phone.

Frustration building, my hands curled into fists. Bella did not miss my movements. She gave me a small nod, her expression softening as she tried to convey to me that everything would be all right. But she had no way of knowing that. When it came down to it, neither did Alice. She could see possible outcomes, but they were subject to minute variations, constantly shifting depending upon extemporaneous changes in circumstance or volition.

"Edward," Bella whispered, drawing my gaze to her beautiful face. I saw two fingers on her left hand curl very slightly and knew she was beckoning me to her side.

I stood with measured motions, waiting a moment until Raymond saw that I intended to move back toward Bella. He narrowed his eyes in warning but permitted me to return to her. I sank down and reached for her hand, finding immeasurable comfort in the warmth and softness of her skin.

She rested her head on my shoulder, permitting her hair to fall over her face. "Mark's in bad shape," she easily surmised.

Concerned as I was for her safety, I knew I could not lie to her. So I gave her hand a gentle, affirmative squeeze and permitted myself to sigh.

"Then let's help him," she said, her voice softer than a breath.

I cupped her head in my hand and kissed her cheek as her words sank in. "I don't want you in harm's way," I whispered into her fragrant hair.

"I'll be fine. He won't hurt me," she replied very quietly. "Just let me do this. You'll know when it's time to step in."

The determination I saw in her expression frightened me nearly as much as the gun gripped in Raymond's unsteady hand.

I shook my head, and through clenched teeth entreated, "Bella, no…"

Raymond took a step toward us. "No talking!" he ordered.

"I'm sorry," Bella said, looking up at him. "I just—" She rubbed a hand over her shin. "My leg really hurts. I think I twisted it or something when I stumbled. The physical therapist warned me to be careful; the muscles are still healing." Her cheeks flushed quite convincingly.

I didn't understand her intent. What was she planning to do? My ears strained for any movement from my phone, but it remained maddeningly motionless. I knew it was important that I remain passive and non-threatening. Yet now that the moment was approaching, I wanted nothing more than to leap to my feet and wrest the gun from him, crushing it in my hand as I immobilized him with a single blow…

Raymond scowled. "Deal with it." _Stupid girl's so clumsy she probably broke her leg tripping over her other foot._

I forcefully stifled a snarl.

"If I could stand up for a minute..." Bella's voice had turned pleading; she was a competent actress with the proper motivation. "I just need to stretch it out, I think."

He shook his head. "Everyone stays where they are."

"Please," she repeated, sniffling a little now. Her fingers clutched at her leg. "It really aches."

The other women were watching Raymond expectantly now. He could sense their eyes upon him, realizing that they perceived his responses as unnecessarily cruel. While he still refused to acknowledge that the deputy's injury was his fault, he reminded himself that things would look better for him if treated his hostages well.

"Fine," he muttered. "Get up."

"Thank you," Bella replied gratefully.

"Let me help," I began, but Raymond cut me off.

"No. You stay where you are. She can stand on her own." _I hope. _"Be careful!" he warned.

She pulled herself up onto her feet, keeping one hand pressed against her leg. Her expression twisted as she stood, and I wondered if she really was in significant pain. Her heart was thudding, but I could not determine if she was frightened, anxious, or hurting.

She leaned against the wall, moving her leg slowly, flexing her foot for a few moments. A small whimper escaped her.

_Damn it!_ Raymond thought, _What the hell is it with her now?_

Bella undoubtedly noted his expression. She looked up at him, pretending to wipe at nonexistent tears in her eyes.

Her voice was tremulous as she asked, "I have some pain medication in my purse. Can I have it?"

He frowned mightily, weighing the possibility that she might have pepper spray or something else she could use as a weapon in her bag. Finally he gestured toward the other women. "Toss it over here."

Lisa slid Bella's purse across the floor, and Raymond bent quickly to pick it up. He struggled to keep the gun steady as he fumbled with the purse one-handed. He couldn't open it without looking down, so he settled for feeling the contents through the worn, soft leather. Satisfied that there was nothing dangerous within, he threw the bag toward Bella. It landed at her feet.

"Thank you," she acknowledged, stooping carefully to lift it. She rummaged inside for a few moments, producing a small container of Tylenol. She shook out two tablets. "Um, I need some water," she said, moving her gaze purposefully to the water cooler just beyond Margery's desk. She sniffled again.

"I'll get it," I offered immediately.

"No," Raymond snapped. "You stay where you are."

"I can get it," Bella offered diffidently. "It'd probably help my leg to move it a little more anyway."

Despite his growing annoyance, Raymond relented. "Fine. But then you sit down and stay down. Got it?"

She nodded and gave him a grateful smile, followed by another sniffle. Beneath the swipe of her hand, she whispered, "Trust me, Edward."

Bella began hobbling slowly across the room. My entire body tensed as I waited to see what she would do. My ears strained for any movement from my phone, but the device remained still.

Raymond took several steps back toward the far wall, shifting so that he could see both Bella and the rest of the small group from his position. She was about two yards from him; I was twice that distance.

I still had no idea what her plan was. My palms pressed anxiously into the floor, beginning to crack the tile before I realized the effects and moved my hands to my lap. Bella's progress was arduous to watch, each step halting and pained. A few tiny whimpers slipped from her lips, agonizing to hear. I felt convinced that she really was in pain.

Finally she reached the cooler and filled one of the little paper cups with water. She turned slightly so that Raymond could not see her mouth, murmuring, "Just give me a few seconds, Edward," before quickly swallowing the pills.

Then she froze. Her small hand crushed the paper cup, and it fell to the floor. I watched in morbid fascination as her fingers opened then began prodding at her throat. She coughed weakly and gasped. She was choking.

"Bella!" I exclaimed, quickly rising.

"Get down!" Raymond ordered.

But I remained on my feet. "She's choking!" I cried.

As if in confirmation, Bella gagged and spluttered again. Now both hands were lifted as they fluttered near her neck. She bent over, and I heard her whisper between gasps, "I'm okay."

Immensely relieved, I suppressed a smile. She was all right, and now I understood her plan.

Bella looked up at me, her expression convincingly fearful and desperate. I heard the other women murmuring their concerns.

"She can't breathe," I said, my tone stricken. "She could die!" With those words, I took a step forward.

Raymond was overwhelmed. He didn't want Bella to choke to death, but he needed to maintain control of the situation. It was critical that he call the shots. This was my chance to force his hand.

Purposefully, I strode forward. Raymond stepped in front of me, but my hand thrust out with measured speed to shove him away. He was teetering on the edge now. He lunged for me, his fingers closing around my arm.

"Now, Edward," Bella whispered.

In an instant my gaze had swept the room. Raymond's back was to the other women, partially blocking their view of me. The gun was trained on me, so there was no danger that a shot fired would hit any of them. Bella was to my left, also away from the potential trajectory. I realized now how clever she was. Not only had she formulated a plausible reason for me to approach Raymond, she had devised the plan so that no one else would be in a position to get hurt.

I looked down at the gun and reached for it, my hand moving quickly but not unnaturally so, as I would have preferred. I was not surprised when Raymond's finger jerked spasmodically against the trigger, but the sound of the gunshot still caused me to flinch. It seemed impossibly loud.

I heard Margery cry, "Get down!"

I pulled the gun quickly from Raymond's grasp, the barrel hot against my cold, stony flesh. One glance assured me that the women had all pressed themselves to the ground, their heads down. I threw Raymond across the room, restraining myself from using all the force at my disposal. He slammed into the wall and slid to the floor. The gun remained in my hand.

"Edward!" Bella gasped, her eyes moving over me. Her expression was an odd mixture of both relief and apprehension. I did not understand why she would still feel anxious.

I gave her a nod of reassurance, lifting my hand toward her. I expected her to run to me, but when she took a step it was to the side. Quickly she bent and closed her hand around one of the shards of glass on the floor.

"Bella?" I questioned softly, completely confounded by her actions.

She straightened and hurried toward me, just as the other hostages began lifting their heads to risk a peek at the scene.

"It's all right," I said to them, but even as I spoke I could smell the blood.

"Edward," Bella uttered, her voice slow as if she were in shock, "you've been shot."

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><p><em>To be continued…<em>


	7. Chapter 7

I smelled Bella's sweet blood immediately. She paled, and I knew she was fighting back nausea and dizziness.

I looked down to see the rend in my shirt, exposing a bit of the smooth flesh above my ribcage. There was tiny tinkle as the shard Bella clutched fell to the floor near her feet, but no one aside from me noticed the sound. She pressed her hand over my ribs, her warm blood quickly saturating the torn fabric and slicking my skin.

Margery had gotten to her feet shakily and was now at her desk dialing 911.

"You should sit down," Bella whispered, and obediently I sank to my knees. She crouched beside me. "The gun?" she questioned softly.

I set the weapon on the floor and nudged it several feet toward the door, glad to dispose of it. It had felt uncomfortably heavy in my hand. The painters had heard the gunshot and were clamoring about the exterior of the bank now, trying to see inside. One had pulled out his phone to call the police. Help would arrive very soon.

Bella kept her hand firmly over my side, but her eyes moved to Raymond. "Is he unconscious?"

I nodded, listening to his heartbeat and respiration for a moment before saying softly, "He'll be out for a while."

She nodded, clearly relieved. My own relief washed through me, and for a moment I felt grateful that I was on my knees. I swallowed a few drops of venom that insisted on prickling against the back of my tongue.

_Edward. _I heard my name in a very familiar mind.

"Thank God," I murmured. "Alice."

Bella's eyes widened. "She's here?"

_We'll be there in a couple of minutes,_ my sister told me. _Carlisle's with me._ _We'll arrive just a few seconds after the police. Don't let anyone near you before then._

Carlisle added, _Paramedics and_ a_n ambulance are on the way, too_. _We should get to you before they do._

"Alice and Carlisle are coming," I said softly. "They'll be here soon."

The next few minutes passed quickly. Debra gingerly picked up the gun and removed the clip, still nervous that Raymond might wake before the police arrived. The women watched him warily, but no one dared approach him to tie his hands. I would gladly have done it, but I knew I needed to remain where I was. I continued to monitor him to ensure that he was not regaining consciousness.

Margery unlocked the door, and the painters peered inside, asking what had happened. The open door revealed patchy sunlight. Margery suggested that everyone go outside, but Bella quickly said she wasn't sure if it was safe to move me. Of course everyone assumed she was referring to my apparent bullet wound.

I remained seated on the floor, Bella at my side. She had finally pulled her hand away when the bleeding slowed. She had managed to suppress her dizziness, but she was still pallid. I felt a new surge of relief when the police car pulled up: I knew Alice and Carlisle were only moments behind.

The two policemen spoke with the women outside briefly then entered the bank. One of them moved immediately to Raymond to secure him. The other glanced at Lindstrom, noting the bandage around his head and deciding that the bleeding boy before him was the priority. He knelt down in front me.

Outside I heard the purr of Carlisle's Mercedes.

"How are you doing, son?" the officer asked me. His name plate read Sergeant Collins.

I had placed my hand over the tear in my shirt, but blood was visible beneath my fingers. His hand moved toward the site.

"I don't think it's that bad," I replied, pulling up my knees defensively.

"Let me have a look," he said.

"No—it's okay," I replied feebly. I turned my head toward Lindstrom. "You should check on him. He seems to be hurt pretty badly."

He nodded but remained convinced I required immediate assistance. "I will in a second," he said. "But I need to see how you're doing first." He was distracted momentarily by further noise from outside.

Responding to the call about a potential robbery, a second police car had now pulled up. Two more officers got out quickly as Carlisle and Alice hurried toward the building, careful to keep within the shady areas. I heard my father's questions about the events and the real distress in his tone when he received a brief recap from Margery.

"My God," he said. "My son and his girlfriend were supposed to have a late lunch with us. They were going to stop at the bank first, and I told them we'd meet them at his car." The slightly panicked edge to his voice sounded genuine. "Where are they?"

"You'd better get inside," an officer said somewhat urgently. "I think your son's been hurt."

I heard Carlisle's sharp inhalation of surprise.

"Do you want me to get your bag from the car?" Alice asked, then added for the policemen's benefit, "He's a doctor."

Carlisle nodded, and she hurried back to the vehicle.

I had kept my hand firmly in place, wondering how long I could delay Collins' attempts to view the wound. Fortunately Carlisle entered the bank just as the officer grasped my wrist.

"Edward!" Carlisle exclaimed, hastening toward me.

I looked up. "Dad," I responded, truly glad to see him.

"Who're you?" Collins asked Carlisle.

One of the policemen from the second car stepped inside, quickly gesturing toward me before informing his associate, "This is his father. He's a doctor."

Collins moved aside as Carlisle knelt in front of me.

"How are you doing, son?" he asked. His gaze met mine. _Is Bella all right? Alice saw that she cut herself. There seems to be quite a bit of blood. _His fingers skimmed the crimson stain on my shirt.

"I don't think it's too bad," I replied to his silent question, but I'm sure my expression showed my distress at the knowledge that Bella had been hurt.

His attention shifted to her for a moment as he assessed her condition. Rapidly appraising her heart rate, respiration, and color, he thought she might be in shock. He cast his concerned eyes upon her, silently questioning her. She gave him a wan smile, undoubtedly intending to reassure him.

He offered a quick nod of acknowledgment in return, then he placed his hand over mine. He wrapped his fingers around my wrist as he feigned checking my pulse. He was stalling for time; he could not examine my "wound" beneath Collins' curious gaze.

Luckily Alice made a timely appearance, Carlisle's black bag clutched in her hand. She gasped loudly as her eyes moved from me to the fallen deputy. Her gasp drew Collins' attention, and she pointed at the injured man.

"He's hurt pretty badly," Bella said, her voice ragged. "He's a deputy. He works with my father in Forks."

"Could you check on him?" Carlisle requested, looking up at Collins.

The other two officers had handcuffed Raymond and were hauling the semi-conscious man outside to secure him in the cruiser.

"Oh, yeah, of course," Collins replied.

He moved quickly to Lindstrom, particularly anxious now that he knew the victim was a fellow law officer.

Carlisle made a pretense of examining my wound, careful to position his hands so that they blocked a direct view of the site to anyone who might glance inside. I had already turned slightly so that the camera would capture my unmarred side.

Alice crouched down beside me, taking my hand in a gesture that I found surprisingly comforting. She offered me an apologetic look as she told me, _I'm sorry we couldn't come and help sooner… We were going to, but I saw how that would turn out… not well, Edward. And we considered calling the police, too, but that also had a bad outcome for us. Once Bella made her decision and came up with her plan, though, I knew everything would turn out all right._

While I wished with all my still heart that Bella had not been hurt, I realized that my family had followed the only rational course. I gave my sister a nod of acknowledgment and understanding.

Alice rubbed Bella's back with her other hand. I heard Bella's breathing slow slightly; she was finally calming down, the presence of my family most likely helping allay her lingering fears about the situation.

"Alice, get a dressing from my bag," Carlisle instructed after a few moments of prodding at me.

Quickly she found the requested item and passed it to him. As he pressed the large gauze pad over my flank, he asked very quietly, "How badly is the deputy hurt?"

"I couldn't do more than a cursory check, but GCS is probably five or six," I replied softly. "I suspect an epidural hematoma. He struck his head on the counter there."

A brief glance at the heavy granite slab heightened Carlisle's concern. He asked, "How long has he been unconscious?"

"Since the injury occurred—over an hour," I informed him.

The ambulance was just pulling up.

Speaking loudly enough for Collins to hear, Carlisle said, "You were very lucky, son. The bullet just grazed you. It's not serious—really only a scrape."

I nodded mechanically, but Alice gushed a bit. "Oh, thank goodness! Wow, Edward, that's such good news. I'm really, really glad you're going to be okay."

After cleaning away most of the blood and securing a large bandage over my side, Carlisle hurried over to Lindstrom to assess his condition and offer whatever assistance he could. He wished he had been able to tend to the deputy immediately, but his dedication to his family had taken precedence.

Two paramedics rushed in, immediately noting my bloodied shirt. However, I held up a hand to gesture toward the injured deputy.

"I'm all right," I said quickly. "He's hurt pretty badly."

One of the paramedics strode toward Lindstrom, while the other began to bend toward me, heedless of my request. His thoughts showed his intention to check my vitals. Luckily Carlisle intervened. He had previously met one of the medics, who had brought a couple of patients to the hospital in Forks several months ago after a major highway collision.

"McMurphy, isn't it?" Carlisle asked crisply yet politely.

The paramedic nodded, quickly recognizing the unusually handsome, young physician from Forks. "Doctor… Cullen, right?" he asked.

Carlisle nodded. "I need both of you over here." His tone was quietly authoritative.

For the moment I was left alone. I focused my attention on Bella. Her color had not improved, and I could see the light sheen of perspiration on her clammy skin. She was still fighting against the nausea and dizziness.

"How are you doing, love?" I asked gently.

She swallowed. "I'm okay."

Alice had stopped breathing the moment she entered the bank. She took one shallow breath then said, "Let's get you cleaned up a little."

Bella gave a grateful nod, and Alice helped her to her feet, keeping an arm around her as they walked to the bathroom.

"Alice," I cautioned softly, "be careful. I think the cut on her hand is pretty deep."

_I'm just going to rinse off the blood,_ my sister assured me. _If I don't, the results won't be pretty. _I caught a mental flash of Bella's knees buckling as she retched. Yes, by all means, I wished to avoid that outcome.

I couldn't shed my shirt yet, so I hoped the bloodstains wouldn't prove too overwhelming for Bella. I suddenly realized that I had dealt with the blood rather successfully. There had been a few trickles of venom to tease me, but I'd had little difficulty quashing any strong urges. I suppose I had been so concerned about Bella and the deputy that my priorities had lain elsewhere. Even now, the scent, while utterly delectable, enticed me but did not spark any primal impulses.

I heard the water running and Bella's little gasp as the cool liquid ran over her hand. Alice murmured a few soothing words to her. Collins had hurried outside to bring a gurney for Lindstrom. He and another officer wheeled it past me.

Carlisle had done what he could for the deputy. He was now on his phone, speaking with the neurosurgeon at the Port Angeles hospital. I knew the man's condition was critical, but Carlisle believed he would still respond to swift intervention.

Bella and Alice returned from the bathroom to sit down on either side of me just before the paramedics wheeled Lindstrom out. Carlisle waited until they had passed through the doorway then darted toward Margery's desk to pluck something from the floor, moving so quickly that Bella could not see him. Slowing his pace, he walked back toward us and knelt before Bella.

"How are you doing, sweetheart?" he asked, scrutinizing her closely.

"Better," she replied, her voice a little stronger. "Now that most of the blood is gone, it helps."

"Has the bleeding stopped?" he inquired softly, glancing at her loosely curled fist. She held a crumpled paper towel in her hand.

"I think so. Mostly, at least."

"I'll have a look at it as soon as I can," he assured her.

We all understood that he needed to wait until we were away from the police and other witnesses. While we could likely create a plausible explanation for the cut, it was best not to raise any suspicions, particularly when the injury did not require immediate treatment.

Carlisle pretended to help me to my feet, keeping an arm around my waist. Collins re-entered the bank to inform us that the paramedics had left. They would arrive at the hospital within a few minutes.

"We're sending another ambulance for you, son," he added, looking at me.

"Oh," Carlisle replied quickly, "that won't be necessary. The wound isn't deep; he doesn't even need sutures, thank goodness. I've already cleaned and dressed it."

"I really just want to go home," I said as pathetically as possible.

Collins frowned slightly. "We're gonna need all of you to come down to the station so that we can get formal statements."

The sun was shining brightly now. There were few areas of shadow, and it was difficult to know how much natural light would bathe the police station.

Alice had obviously foreseen this issue. She had passed her phone to Bella several moments ago, whispering, "Call your dad. Tell him you want to come home _now_."

Bella's expression showed that she understood. She held the phone to her ear, waiting for Charlie to answer. As soon as he did, she cried, "Dad!"

"Bella?" he asked. Something in her tone alerted him to her distress. "What's the matter?"

"Oh Dad, you won't believe what happened!" Quickly she related the day's traumatic events to him. When she told him about Lindstrom's injury, she had real tears in her eyes.

"Her father is Chief Swan from Forks," Carlisle explained to Collins. "Mark Lindstrom is his deputy."

Collins recalled that Bella had said something to that effect, but in the chaotic aftermath of the robbery attempt he hadn't pieced it all together. She mentioned Collins' name as she spoke with her father, and Charlie asked to speak with him. Before she passed the phone over, however, Bella made a single, heartfelt request.

"Dad, Edward and I just want to come home. I… I need to see you. Is that okay? They want us to stay and give statements, but can we come back tomorrow to do that?"

Charlie's voice was rough with emotion as he answered. "Of course, Bells. Don't worry about anything. I'll take care of it."

She handed the phone to Collins and turned to me with a relieved little smile. We waited a minute or so while Charlie sorted things with Collins. Chief Swan had an excellent reputation in the local law enforcement community, so the favor he requested was easily granted.

Carlisle and I conversed subtly while Charlie and the officer talked.

_Emmett and Jasper are waiting about half a mile away, _Carlisle informed me. _We didn't know what sort of damage control might be needed…_ He glanced at the security camera.

"It's okay," I said, too quickly and softly for Collins or Bella to hear, "I made sure I was _slow._"

He apprehended my meaning, and his lips twitched upward for an instant. _Is there anything else? _he inquired.

I shook my head. I felt certain that nothing I had done or said would arouse any unusual suspicion. Still, it was best to err on the side of caution.

Foreseeing that I would need to speak with Bella, Alice wrapped an arm around her shoulder, drawing her in for a hug. She whispered to her, "Can you think of anything Edward did or said that wouldn't have seemed human?"

Bella's pretty brow furrowed as she attempted to recall all of the events she had witnessed. After a few seconds, she gave a small shake of her head. "He did everything right," she murmured, lifting her eyes to my face.

It required considerable self-restraint to keep myself from enveloping her in my embrace and kissing her. Instead, I permitted my fingertips to brush against her hand. It was enough for now.

Collins returned the phone to Bella so that she could speak with Charlie briefly. The officer informed us that Chief Swan would bring us back to Port Angeles in the morning to give our statements. He requested that Carlisle or another physician from Forks prepare an official report detailing my injury, explaining that it would be necessary when the D.A. filed formal charges against Raymond.

Carlisle was familiar with the protocol and assured Collins that he would provide the necessary documentation when we returned in the morning.

Lisa, Margery, and Debra came inside then to gather up their things. After inquiring about my well being, all three women hugged Bella, and Margery kissed my cheek, thanking me sincerely for intervening and bringing the situation to a close. The two other women conveyed their gratitude as well, their minds full of admiration for my bravery and devotion to my girlfriend. All three wished us well as we walked slowly toward the door.

Alice offered to bring the car around, ostensibly so that I would not need to walk any further than necessary. Of course, it was really to avoid exposure to the sunlight. She flitted away, and Carlisle, Bella, and I waited in the shelter of the doorway until the Mercedes pulled up to the curb. I pretended to hunch over in pain as I walked the few feet to the vehicle. Since we were nearly the same height, Carlisle conveniently had to lower his shoulders and head, too. He helped me into the back seat and slid in beside me, grateful for the tinted windows that prevented direct sunlight from shining into the car.

Bella climbed into the front seat, and Collins leaned in to offer a few words before we drove off. We were all considerably relieved when Alice turned around in the alley and left the bank and remaining police car behind.

A hint of color had returned to Bella's face when she stepped out into the fresh air, but now I could see her growing pale again. Her heart fluttered in her chest, and she inhaled shakily. The hitch in her breathing was not an act this time.

* * *

><p><em>To be continued... <em>


	8. Chapter 8

Hoping to quell Bella's building panic, I reached for her uninjured hand. "It's all right, love," I told her gently. "We're all safe now."

She permitted her head to fall back against the seat. "Oh my God," she gasped, inhaling sharply.

"Take a few slow, deep breaths," Carlisle suggested softly.

Alice placed a reassuring hand upon Bella's knee, and I stroked her wrist with my thumb. There was little else to say. She simply needed a few minutes to process all that had occurred. We all listened intently as her heart and respiration rates gradually began to normalize.

I realized that Jasper and Emmett were behind us now in my Volvo. Alice was speeding toward the highway, my brothers following closely. Once we were a few miles outside of town in a more remote area, Carlisle asked Alice to stop the car.

She exited the highway and drove along a smaller road for a mile or so before pulling the car off into the shelter of the forest. The Volvo joined us almost immediately. Alice leapt from the car and into Jasper's arms, inhaling deeply in the clean air. In an instant I had gotten out and opened Bella's door, pulling her into my embrace.

I held her for a long time before Emmett finally tapped my shoulder and said with feigned impatience, "Sister needs a hug from her big brother, too."

I felt Bella smile against my cheek. Reluctantly I pulled away and permitted Emmett to wrap his burly arms around her in the gentlest of embraces. "You okay?" he asked her softly.

"I think so," she replied.

Alice and Jasper joined us. _She's feeling much calmer now, _he informed me kindly.

I gave him an appreciative nod, knowing he would alleviate any remaining tension Bella might harbor. While her heart rate had slowed to nearly normal, she remained paler than I liked. I could smell fresh blood, too.

Jasper and Emmett stepped back, and Alice took her husband's hand as they all moved several hundred yards away. For everyone's sake, I stripped off my shirt, tying it into a tight ball before flinging it far into the trees. My hand reached for the bandage over my ribs, which had absorbed a light smudge of blood through the fabric.

However, Carlisle caught my movement and said, "Leave it, Edward, just in case." _It's a necessary ruse…_

I nodded in understanding. I didn't think the smell of the dried blood would bother Bella or my siblings much, particularly if I put something else on over it. I darted to my car, where I had left a light jacket—a standard prop in any vehicle we owned. By the time I had zipped it and returned to Bella, Carlisle was kneeling before her. His bag sat on the ground beside him, open.

He took her hand, and she uncurled her fist. I moved to stand beside her, clasping her other hand in mine. She looked up at me, questioning my level of discomfort.

"I'm fine," I told her, and it was true.

She squeezed my fingers weakly but gratefully, resting her head against my hip.

I cupped her damp, cool cheek in my other hand, saying softly, "Just focus on me." I knew she would begin to feel better once the blood was cleaned away.

Carlisle eased the wadded paper towel away from her palm. The wound bled minimally, a few scarlet drops standing out against her creamy skin. He cleaned the gash then inspected it carefully to confirm that the cut was free of debris. He offered an apology for the additional twinges of pain his actions caused.

"It's not terribly deep, Bella," he informed her. "It doesn't need stitches, and I don't see any glass in the wound." He applied antibiotic cream and a large adhesive bandage.

"Is this going to raise any questions?" she asked worriedly as she studied the dressing.

"No, love," I reassured her. "Everyone saw you scrape your hand against the desk when you fell."

She smiled somewhat self-effacingly. "Oh yeah. I guess it's a good thing that little accident happened."

Indeed it was. Not only did it give her a believable reason for her injury, it also provided the materials she needed in order to make my wound look real. I felt a pang as I thought again about the pain she had endured for me.

"I'm sorry," I said, tracing around the edge of her bandage. "I wish you hadn't needed to do that."

Carlisle was packing up his bag, but he paused to look up and say, "I share that sentiment, Bella. But I want to compliment you on your quick thinking. That was a brilliant idea."

She shrugged modestly. "It seemed pretty obvious the instant I saw the damage from the bullet on his shirt. I knew there was no way anyone would believe the bullet had ripped his shirt and not touched him. There had to be blood… And I saw all those pieces of glass just a few feet away. There was no question about what I needed to do."

"Your actions probably saved our secret," Carlisle said quite seriously. "Putting your hand over the site made perfect sense… Really, it was the ideal solution to the problem."

Alice had flitted back to the car. Jasper and Emmett remained near the Volvo, waiting to be sure the alluring aroma had fully dissipated. I looked down at my sister, needing to confirm something.

"You were trying to warn me, weren't you?" I asked. "All those times you called—you'd seen the outcome of each of my plans."

She nodded. "I was hoping you'd figure out what I meant, and then of course I saw that you would…" She shook her head in mild admonishment. "Really, Edward, you should have known that disarming and disabling that wacko in any way other than the human one was a really, really bad idea."

I did not deserve her chastisement. "There were five human lives at risk," I retorted somewhat indignantly, "Bella's among them. If there had been no other way to save them, I would have used whatever abilities I needed to resolve the situation."

Jasper was prepared to come to Alice's defense. Emmett was undecided but wished he had been there for the action. Carlisle placed a hand on Alice's shoulder.

Calmly he said, "Everything turned out for the best."

Alice relented, instead focusing on her other questions. She asked Bella, "So you pretended to choke, right? You knew Edward would come to your rescue."

Bella nodded. "I wasn't sure if that would send Raymond over the edge, though. He was so insistent that we all remain seated, that no one move… I thought at least this way Edward could get near him, close enough to get the gun away without anyone seeing how he did it. I really didn't think Raymond would shoot, though."

A small shiver ran through her.

"But you made sure everyone else was out of harm's way," I reiterated. I wasn't certain if my family knew this detail; Alice's visions might not have shown her everything. "You arranged it so that you and I were on the other side of the room, well away from Lindstrom and the women."

"That was very smart," Carlisle said.

She replied modestly, "I just knew that Mark needed to get to the hospital, and we couldn't wait any longer." Her eyes widened as she asked Carlisle, "Is he going to be all right? Did he make it to the hospital in time?"

"I think so," my father answered. "I asked Dr. Ahern to call me as soon as the deputy is out of surgery. I'll let you know when I hear something. I'm sure Charlie will want to know, too."

"Thank you," she said softly.

He touched her cheek briefly. "I imagine your father is anxious to see you. We should probably get back on the road."

"Ride in the back seat with me?" I asked Bella.

She smiled, and I took her hand to help her to rise. She flinched slightly as she extended her right leg.

"Sweetheart," I asked with concern, "did you really hurt your leg? I thought that was part of the ploy…"

"It's all right," she replied. "It's just a little sore."

"Carlisle," I appealed.

He had moved around to the driver's side door but returned to us in an instant. "What happened, Bella?"

"I just stumbled," she said. "I guess I landed wrong. But really it just feels like I pulled a muscle slightly."

"Would you like me to take a look at it?" he offered.

Her cheeks colored a bit. "No, thank you. Really, it's fine."

I gave him a dubious look.

"Take a few steps for me," he requested, moving back and holding out his hand toward her.

Bella complied, and he studied her gait carefully. _She's favoring the left leg slightly, Edward, but I don't sense any significant increase in pain with the pressure or movement. She's relatively steady… Keep an eye on her, though. _

That went without saying.

She took Carlisle's outstretched hand when she reached him. He looked pointedly at her. "All right?" he asked.

"Yes. Really."

He smiled and hugged her tenderly. "Thank you, dear, for everything."

I helped her into the back seat then pulled her into my lap. I had no intention of releasing her until the last possible moment. She rested her head against my chest, and we both sat quietly as Carlisle guided the car back to the highway.

After a few minutes, Bella let out a sigh. Alarmed that it was an indicator of pain, I lifted her chin and asked, "What's the matter?"

She frowned. "I didn't get my CD! Today was the last day of the promotion…"

I laughed. "I'm sure they'll make an exception for you. It's the least they can do."

She nuzzled against me again, and we cuddled contentedly as the car sped along toward Forks.

* * *

><p><em>To be continued...<em>


	9. Chapter 9

Charlie ran out of the house the moment the Mercedes pulled into the driveway. I pressed a soft kiss to Bella's brow then sadly relinquished my hold on her. At Carlisle's silent suggestion, I unzipped my jacket so that the edge of the bandage would be visible. Bella slid over to the other side of the car and waited, keeping her hand in mine.

Carlisle got out, managing to get to the car's back door at the same time as Charlie.

"She's fine," my father immediately reassured him.

He nodded in relief. "And Edward? He was shot? My God…"

"The bullet just grazed him," Carlisle replied, his voice appropriately unsteady. "Thank goodness. I can't even think about what could have happened—" He inhaled shakily.

Charlie squeezed his shoulder, earning a grateful nod from Carlisle before he opened the door. Bella began to slide out, and Charlie immediately flung his arms around her, pulling her to her feet in an uncharacteristically affectionate display.

"Bella," he breathed. "Oh God, Bells." I heard the fear and relief in his mind very clearly.

"I'm okay," she told him. She gripped him tightly, her hands fisting against the fabric of his shirt.

He cleared his throat after about thirty seconds and released her, but kept one hand hovering at the small of her back. He leaned into the car, scrutinizing me for a moment. His eyes flicked down to the bandage, then he looked up at my face again. His thoughts revealed genuine concern for me.

"How're you doing?" he asked.

A bit feebly, I replied, "It hurts, but I think I'll be all right." I rested a hand gingerly over the bandage.

Charlie nodded then addressed Carlisle. "He looks pretty rough—he's awfully pale. I could've met you at the hospital."

"We knew you'd want to see Bella right away," Carlisle responded.

"I really appreciate that," Charlie said. "You want an escort to the hospital? I can call Fletcher—"

Carlisle smiled gratefully. "That won't be necessary, Charlie. Edward just wants to go home to Esme and the rest of the family. The wound is superficial. The bullet barely grazed him—something of a miracle, really." He shook his head in convincing disbelief. Then, in a confidential whisper, he added, "When I mentioned going to the hospital, he almost began to cry. He's pretty shaken up. I think what he needs most right now is the comfort and security of home. I'm going to keep a very close eye on him, but I believe with some rest and a little of his family's TLC he'll be just fine."

Deflecting any additional questions the Chief might have had, Carlisle deftly changed the topic to one Charlie could not ignore.

"Bella," Carlisle said gently, taking her uninjured hand, "how are you doing?"

"I'm feeling better," she replied.

Charlie's eyes widened in renewed concern. "You weren't hurt, were you?" His gaze ran over her appraisingly. He noticed the bandage on her palm and reached for her wrist. "Bells? What happened?"

"I just scraped my hand," she replied.

"It's not deep," Carlisle said preemptively. "I cleaned and bandaged it myself. But when I arrived at the bank, she was feeling faint—there was some fresh blood from Edward's wound." He dropped his voice. "And of course the overall trauma of the situation…" He shook his head in apparent incredulity. Shifting his focus back to Bella, he continued in a professional yet kind tone, "So I want you to take it easy for the rest of the day. Try to eat something light in a little while, and have some water or juice as soon as you get inside."

Charlie nodded in understanding. He would see that she was taken care of, although I loathed the thought that I would not be the one to do it. For the sake of prudence, I knew I could not see her until she retired for the night. I only hoped she would tell her father she was exhausted from the day's events and go to bed early.

She turned her head to look and me and offer me a smile of promise. I could not resist reaching for her hand.

Charlie was asking about Lindstrom now. Carlisle assured him that he would relay the information from the neurosurgeon as soon as he heard anything.

"I think his chances are fair," my father said honestly. "If another half hour had gone by, though, things would look different."

Charlie shook his head somberly. "Yeah. Thanks for everything you did for him. It's lucky you were there…" A flicker of doubt crossed his mind as he briefly considered the coincidental nature of Carlisle's presence in Port Angeles just at the critical time.

Carlisle smiled. "Much as I complain about Alice's shopping habits, I'm very glad that she dragged me to Port Angeles today. I don't think I'll ever object again when she insists that I need a new pair of shoes."

The two men shook hands, and I disentangled my fingers from Bella's.

"Love you," she mouthed.

"Love you, too," I returned.

Charlie poked his head into the car again. "Thank you, Edward," he said with gruff sincerity.

Then he urged Bella toward the house. She glanced back once as Charlie led her away, one arm tentatively wrapped around her shoulder to provide physical and emotional support.

Carlisle closed my door then climbed into the driver's seat and started the car. He did not need to be a mind-reader to know my thoughts. His gaze met mine in the mirror.

"You need to give her father some time with her," he told me.

I nodded dourly. I knew he was right, but that did not make it easier for me. " I need to be with her," I said. "And she needs to be with me."

"Yes," he agreed. "But I think she's fine for the moment. How are you?"

His question surprised me, although his perceptiveness did not.

"I wanted to protect her," I said. "I wanted to keep her safe, but…" I swallowed, and this time it was not venom clogging my throat.

"I know, son. You were in a very difficult situation. You could have contained it—ended it—in an instant, but you chose to protect our life here."

"I would have acted immediately if there'd ever been a significant threat to her," I replied almost vehemently.

"Of course. I feel thankful that things didn't escalate to that point. You and Bella handled it perfectly."

"She was amazing," I said, my voice softer now. "She understood how Raymond would react, and she made certain everyone else would be safe. It was the deputy who finally spurred her to act. She was really frightened for him, and when his condition worsened, she decided we had to do something; she wouldn't wait."

"She probably saved his life."

"Yes."

The admiration in his mind mirrored my own. With a nod of understanding, he directed his thoughts to other things and gave me some time to reflect on my own feelings.

My quiet contemplation came to an abrupt end as we approached the house. The day's events were on the minds and tongues of each member of my family. I knew I would have to provide a full and detailed description of the incident. This was necessary for reasons that extended beyond morbid curiosity. There was still a chance I might have done or said something that could eventually lead to questions from the witnesses or the detectives who would view the security tape.

As Carlisle pulled into the garage, I steeled myself for the onslaught.

* * *

><p>I found myself in Esme's loving embrace the moment I entered the house.<p>

"Sweetheart," she cooed gently, one hand stroking my hair, "are you all right?"

She stepped back to look at me, her eyes falling to the partially exposed bandage.

With a half smile, I replied archly, "You_ do_ know that the bullet didn't harm me?"

"It's not your body I'm asking about," she said, gazing deeply into my eyes.

I kissed her forehead. "I know. Thank you. I'm all right."

"And Bella?" she asked with concern.

"Her strength and intelligence astonish me. She remained calm and kept her wits about her the entire time."

Esme nodded. "I'm not surprised. But how is she now?"

"A little shaken, I think. I'm not sure it's all really hit her yet. She's with Charlie, but I'm going back over there as soon as I can."

"Alice said she was hurt—that she cut herself and used her own blood to make it appear that you'd been shot."

The breath I took was unsteady. "Yes. She closed her hand around a piece of glass."

"Oh Edward." Esme pressed her palm softly over my chest. "I'm so sorry."

With quiet reassurance, Carlisle said, "The wound isn't deep. It shouldn't cause any difficulties."

"But yours would have," Emmett said frankly, "if she hadn't done that."

I nodded. "I know. She did it for all of us."

Jasper had a laptop tucked under his arm. "I managed to get into the security company's system and download a copy of the tape. I think we should all watch it."

Everyone understood his reasoning. Even so, they wanted to hear my version of the events, too. After a quick yet comprehensive retelling, we all gathered around the small screen to view the video.

Carlisle winced visibly when Lindstrom's head struck the thick granite counter. He complimented my first-aid efforts and my control as the deputy's blood slicked the floor and permeated the atmosphere of the room. Esme and Alice murmured their concern when watching Bella stumble and clutch at the corner of the desk. They both gasped as the glass paperweight shattered, littering the floor with shards as Bella toppled into the sharp debris. And as they witnessed the formation of Bella's plan, even Rosalie's thoughts showed admiration for her clever plotting.

By the time we watched Alice and Carlisle enter the bank, everyone concurred that I had done nothing to belie our secret. Many grateful sentiments were directed toward Bella, and I sensed sympathy for me from Esme, Carlisle, Alice, and Jasper. Rosalie's main thought was relief, while Emmett continued to wish he had been involved more overtly.

My efforts to position my body to block a direct view of my "wound" proved entirely successful, and Carlisle's examination and treatment appeared utterly convincing. As I observed him rise and head toward Lindstrom, I recalled that I had intended to ask him something. I forwarded the tape to check that his rapid dash toward the desk had not been captured.

"We need to know if he can be seen if the tape is slowed," I told Jasper. "It's unlikely anyone would think to do that, but we can't be too careful."

Carlisle was slightly worried, but he felt he had done something critical so did not regret his actions.

"What did you pick up?" I asked.

He reached into his pocket and removed a crushed bit of metal. I realized it was the bullet that had struck me.

"If the police had found this," he said, "it would have raised some very difficult questions."

We all nodded, grateful that he had thought to retrieve this one damning bit of evidence. Jasper reviewed the video in slow motion and found that Carlisle's movements appeared nothing more than a flickering shadow. It was extremely doubtful that this would arouse any suspicions.

The entire family felt a sense of relief after we had finished the tape and I had answered all of their remaining questions. We relaxed further when Dr. Ahern called to inform Carlisle that the deputy was out of surgery and was expected to make a successful recovery.

"I need to let Charlie and Bella know," Carlisle said as soon as he had hung up. He sighed as a subtle smile crept over his face. "The last of several almost-miracles today."

Esme and my siblings were all pleased with the news. Emmett and Jasper both clapped me on the back, and Esme and Alice hugged me. Even Rosalie had a small smile upon her lips, but it might have been a spillover from Jasper's infectious mood.

"All's well that ends well," Emmett commented cheerfully.

Jasper's eyebrows rose as he grinned. "You've paid attention to Shakespeare? That really is a miracle!"

Emmett snorted and Rosalie narrowed her eyes, but no one was angry. Indeed, everyone was ebullient—with the exception of me.

After Carlisle had finished speaking to Charlie, I asked, "How is Bella doing?" I knew he had inquired about her.

"She sounded very happy and relieved when her father told her about Deputy Lindstrom," he replied. "Charlie said she's all right. She had some juice and a cup of tea, and he was heating soup for her."

"She hasn't eaten yet?" I frowned in concern.

Carlisle placed a comforting hand upon my shoulder. "She was worried about the deputy, Edward. I'm sure her appetite will return now that she knows he's going to be all right."

I shook my head. "Even so…" I began.

This time it was Esme who interjected. "Sweetheart, you'll see her soon. You just need to have a little patience."

I sighed. When it came to being with Bella, I was the most impatient creature of all.

* * *

><p><em>To be continued... because there are still a couple of loose ends to tie up. :)<em>


	10. Chapter 10

I slipped into Bella's room at 9:00 that evening. She had called me several hours earlier on the pretense of inquiring about my injury. Under Charlie's watchful eye, we had not been able to speak for more than a few minutes, but she had managed to convey to me that she would retire early and hoped I would be waiting for her. As if she even needed to ask…

She looked up at me with a smile as my feet landed silently upon the floor. I could hear Charlie speaking on the phone downstairs. He was telling Billy Black about the incident at the bank, needing an outlet for his feelings. His oldest friend appeared to be a good source of support.

Bella opened her arms to me, and I was before her in an instant. We remained wrapped in each other's embrace for a long time before I finally pulled back. I needed to see her face, to touch the soft warmth of her beautiful cheeks and kiss her glorious lips. I held her face in my hands as I traced her mouth with my thumb. For several long moments I simply drank in the sight of her, and then I leaned in to kiss her tenderly. She returned the kiss with more fervor, but I insisted on keeping our actions gentle. She was so fragile…

When I drew back again, I permitted my gaze to move slowly over her. She wore a cotton tank top and a small pair of knit shorts. The bandage remained on her palm. Fortunately I smelled no fresh blood. When my eyes swept her legs, however, I inhaled sharply.

Both of her knees were deeply bruised. I remembered then how hard she had fallen on the tile floor. Immediately my hands were upon her, my fingers tracing around the contusions then gently feeling about the patellae, searching for any underlying damage.

"I'm all right," she said, stilling my frantic hands. "They're just bruises."

"But Bella, love, these look very painful. Did you take anything? Some ibuprofen would help with the swelling…"

She shook her head. "It doesn't hurt that much—especially now."

I realized that she had positioned my hands so that my cold palms rested over her knees. She offered me a little smile of gratitude as my cool skin eased the pain. My fingers rubbed softly at the tender skin behind her knees, and she sighed contentedly. She rested her head upon my shoulder, her hair cascading fragrantly over my chest. I permitted myself to inhale once, savoring the divine perfume.

I'm not sure how many minutes or hours passed with Bella in my arms, but eventually I drew back so that I could see her face again. Despite the exhaustion written on her features, she did not want to go to sleep.

"I'll be here all night, holding you," I reassured her. "You need to rest."

With a small sigh she relented, and I helped her to settle among the blankets and pillows. I held her against me with one arm, while my other hand moved gently over her hair and cheek. Soon her breathing slowed and grew more even, and I smiled thinly, realizing that she had finally slipped into much-needed slumber, freeing her mind from the images and emotions of the day.

My own mind, however, was not so easily mollified. The night passed slowly for me as every small threat to Bella insisted on replaying itself in my infallible memory over and over again.

Moving away from Bella was almost physically painful, but it was a necessary sacrifice. Charlie had awakened shortly after dawn and felt the need to check on his daughter. I slipped into the closet as he opened her door and poked his head inside. He observed her for a few moments, his mind calming as he saw that she slept soundly.

The moment he had closed the door, I was back beside her, cradling her in my embrace. She stirred just a bit, curling in closer to me. I listened as Charlie walked down the stairs then moved to the kitchen. He was making a phone call, I realized.

He spoke with Sergeant Collins, arranging to bring Bella back to Port Angeles at 10:00.

"The boy'll need to come, too," Collins reminded Charlie rather unnecessarily. "Do you know how he's doing?"

"He looked pretty rough yesterday afternoon, but I spoke with his father last night and he's okay. You want him at the station at ten, too?"

"Yeah."

"I'll call his father. Edward's not eighteen yet, so Dr. or Mrs. Cullen will need to come, too."

"Thanks, Chief, for taking care of it. I'll see you later."

Charlie hung up and called Carlisle, who had arranged to take the morning off at Alice's recommendation. Chief Swan inquired about my well-being, and my father assured him that I had rested comfortably during the night and was feeling better this morning. I knew how much Carlisle disliked lying, but in this case nothing he had said was technically untrue...

Carlisle asked about Bella and sounded relieved to hear that she had passed a quiet night. Even with me at her side, nightmares could gnaw at her. Hoping to assuage any dark images that lingered in her subconscious, I kissed her temple with the lightest touch of my lips.

Carlisle suggested that the four of us drive to Port Angeles together. I supposed I shouldn't have hoped quite so desperately to spend an hour in the car alone with Bella, but I did. Slightly disappointed, I consoled myself by burying my nose in her hair and inhaling deeply.

I woke Bella a few minutes before eight, knowing she would prefer to awake to my touch rather than to Charlie's voice. He was planning to come in just after eight if she wasn't up by then. My kisses along her jaw and neck brought her slowly and pleasurably from sleep, and she smiled at me.

"Mmm," she murmured, "good morning."

I brushed a few strands of soft hair away from her brow. "Good morning to you, too. How do you feel?"

Her forehead tightened momentarily as she became fully aware of herself. "I'm okay," she replied, sitting up slowly. She winced.

"Bella? What is it? What hurts?"

She shook her head. "My leg's just a little sore, and my knees kind of ache. But I think a hot shower will help."

I peeled back the layers of blankets so that I could see her legs. The bruises had darkened to deep purple, but neither knee appeared swollen. I gently felt along the newly healed bone in her right leg, asking her to flex her toes and rotate her foot into several positions. Her range of motion was not significantly compromised, but it was obvious that she had some residual pain.

"Wait here," I instructed, darting to the bathroom quickly. I returned with two Tylenol and a glass of water. "No arguments," I said with mock sternness as I handed her the tablets.

She nodded and swallowed them. I gave her a kiss as a reward. Her fingers twined through my hair, and she pushed her body closer to mine.

"Bella," I breathed, "no…" With a deep sigh, I pulled away. "We have to be in Port Angeles at ten. You need to spend some time in the shower then have a good breakfast before we go."

She gave a small huff but swung her legs over the edge of the bed. "All right. I guess I'll see you in a little while?"

"Yes. Carlisle and Charlie have already spoken; we're all going to Port Angeles together."

Her mood brightened at this bit of news. But then I saw her brow crease as a new thought occurred to her. "Edward, what was he thinking?" she asked seriously.

"Who, love?"

"Raymond. There was such sadness in his eyes, such regret. He didn't really want to hurt anyone, did he?"

Her capacity to comprehend human nature astounded me. She saw something in the man that even I—a creature who could hear his thoughts directly—had not consciously perceived.

"He was desperate," I confirmed. "He wasn't planning to rob the bank when he entered the building. He just wanted to access an old account of his mother's to pay some outstanding bills. But when he couldn't do that, he became distraught. He saw the deputy's gun, and took it on impulse. He just wanted some money, just enough to tide him over. He didn't realize the whole thing would snowball into a hostage situation."

She considered this for a few moments, her beautiful brown eyes full of sadness. I kissed her cheek then nodded toward the hallway. She gathered her bathing items but paused to give me a wan smile of gratitude before shuffling off to the bathroom. I left through the window, counting the minutes until I could see her again.

* * *

><p>Charlie insisted on driving us to Port Angeles in his police cruiser. The trip was uneventful, with the possible exception of Charlie's overt concern for me. He asked twice how I was feeling and if I was in pain, and he gave Carlisle numerous inquiring looks as he wondered if I were suffering any emotional or psychological effects from my traumatic experience.<p>

I caught a few of his more emphatic thoughts: _He's still awfully pale…Doesn't seem to be showing much emotion…sort of stiff and wooden…Looks like he's trying to cover up his pain… _

I reminded myself to pretend to flinch whenever I moved my torso.

As he caught my gaze briefly in the rear-view mirror, Carlisle told me, _I'm afraid he thinks you have PTSD_

A smile quirked at my lips before I realized that this might be an actual concern for Bella. I would need to watch her closely for the next several days to be certain she was well. Charlie was worried about her, too, feeling she might be suppressing the trauma. Yet when I permitted myself to remember in vivid detail the horrific events she had undergone in Phoenix, I realized that Bella had a depth of emotional strength beyond that of most humans. Oh, I would be unfaltering in my careful observation of her, but a part of me felt hopeful that she would suffer few after-effects from the experience in the bank.

The skies were cloudy today, so we did not have to worry about the lighting inside the police station. Charlie escorted us purposefully to the detectives' area, where he greeted an acquaintance who would take our statements. Carlisle handed the detective the report he had prepared detailing my 'injury' at Raymond's hand. Then we were shown to a conference room, where Bella and I each provided a detailed retelling of the events.

Bella took care to emphasize that Raymond had permitted me to treat the deputy's wound and had allowed her to move about and take pain medication. Charlie was not impressed with these details and scowled more than once. However, he kept a hand gently upon her back the entire time she was speaking.

Carlisle mimicked the supportive gesture when it was my turn. Oddly, I appreciated the hint of comfort his touch provided as I recounted the moments during which Bella had truly faced danger.

As I finished my tale with my attempt to take the gun, the detective shook his head.

"Son, I hope you realize how dangerous that was," he said soberly. His thoughts belied his somber words; he was impressed with my bravery but felt a need to warn me against any future impulsiveness, no matter how warranted. "You were extremely lucky that you weren't seriously injured or killed. Guns are very, very dangerous."

"Yes sir," I replied, feigning a small degree on penitence. "I just…" I glanced at Bella, and my next words were utterly sincere. "I just didn't want anyone else to get hurt."

He nodded and exchanged a significant look with Charlie. _This kid really loves his daughter. He did it for her—anyone can see that. _He cleared his throat and straightened the papers before him then explained that we might need to testify if the case went to trial.

Bella's heart sped up a little as she asked, "What's going to happen to him? Raymond, I mean."

"Don't you worry about him, Bells," Charlie replied brusquely. "He's going away for a long time."

"But I don't think he meant to hurt anyone," she said. "The situation just got out of control."

The detective studied her quizzically for a moment. _She's a compassionate girl…you'd think she'd want the guy to fry for almost killing her boyfriend. _His voice was kind, however, as he told her, "You can write a statement for the D.A. if you want, honey."

"Will it help?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Maybe." He was going to say more, to explain that armed robbery carried mandatory sentencing requirements, but he relented. _Poor girl's been through enough already…_

He changed the topic then, informing us that a representative from the bank wanted to speak with us. He handed Charlie a business card and suggested that he call the number soon.

Throughout the interviews, I had listened intently for any signs that the detective questioned my behavior or doubted my actions. Fortunately, I heard nothing to suggest any suspicions on his part. Carlisle had cast me several quick, surreptitious glances, wondering the same thing. As we stood, I offered him a nod of reassurance.

_I'm relieved, _he admitted. _I didn't think there would be any questions, but you never know…_

* * *

><p>Both Carlisle and Charlie wanted to stop at the hospital to check on the deputy. Bella was concerned about him, as well. While neither she nor Charlie were permitted to visit him in the ICU, Carlisle found the neurosurgeon and arranged to see Mark for a few minutes. I listened to my father's thoughts as he read through the chart and performed his own clandestine assessment.<p>

"Carlisle thinks he's doing very well," I whispered quickly to Bella. I knew she was worried.

She gave me a grateful nod, then she and Charlie went to the gift shop to pick out a card. She thought Mark would enjoy knowing that her father had been to the hospital on his behalf. She wrote a sweet message conveying her sincere wishes for a speedy recovery, and Charlie scratched out a few words, too. He left the card with the charge nurse just as Carlisle exited the deputy's room.

Charlie was glad to hear Carlisle's positive report and thanked him again for all he had done. I even received a curt acknowledgement for my efforts to assist the deputy at the bank. Bella beamed at this.

My mood sagged when I noticed Bella favoring her left leg slightly as we walked out of the hospital. The Tylenol was beginning to wear off, and she was feeling some pain. I slid my arm around her waist, and she accepted my support without question. For once Charlie did not glare at me when he noticed that I was touching his daughter.

Carlisle gave her an appraising look, exchanging a glance with me as well. He could read the growing anxiety in my expression. _Give me a few moments to speak with Charlie, _he requested. I slowed my pace so that he and Bella's father could walk ahead.

Quietly, I said, "Your leg is aching, isn't it?"

She shrugged noncommittally. "Not really…"

"Yes, it is. So you are going to allow me to help you, and I won't take no for an answer."

"What do you have in mind?" she asked a little hesitantly. Her gaze wandered warily back to the hospital.

I shook my head. "Nothing like that. In fact, I think you might even enjoy it, as long as Alice doesn't get too involved."

"Alice?" Now Bella really was confused.

Before I could clarify, Charlie turned back. His eyes moved down to her leg, his frown deepening. "Yeah," he said to Carlisle, "I see what you mean." He looked up at her. "You're going to go with Carlisle when we get back home, and he's going to take a look at your leg." He shook his head in mild exasperation. "I don't know why you didn't say something, Bells."

"It's not that bad," she began.

"Yeah, it is," he interjected. "So you're going to do as Carlisle says. No arguments."

Charlie's attempts to be stern with his daughter were really rather feeble; all I heard in his mind was concerned affection, and these feelings somewhat negated his efforts to sound strict.

Still, she did not argue. She merely nodded her head and replied, "Okay."

As we continued walking toward the car, she whispered to me, "No hospitals?"

"No hospitals," I confirmed.

"But Alice…"

"I'm afraid that's unavoidable."

She sighed. "How bad is it going to be?"

A thousand images swirled through my mind, but I tried to squelch them before any became too vivid. I only hoped my sister would be reasonable, just this one time.

* * *

><p><em>To be concluded in the epilogue... <em>


	11. Chapter 11

_Epilogue_

* * *

><p>I suppose I could have permitted Bella to go into the house with Charlie and gather what she would need. But I remained unconvinced that her father would fully approve of the particular therapy I had in mind. So I helped her into the back seat of the Mercedes as soon as we returned to her home, knowing that Alice would have everything Bella might require. My only worry was precisely what my sister would choose. Again I forcefully dismissed the images trying to invade my mind. It was not proper for me to picture Bella like that.<p>

Despite my early assurance that we would not go to the hospital, I could hear Bella's heartbeat slow slightly as Carlisle took the turn leading away from town.

"Are we going to your house?" she asked.

I nodded and smiled down at her. "Yes. I want you to spend some time in the Jacuzzi tub. It will help your leg, as well as any other muscles that are sore from yesterday."

She hesitated for just a moment, recalling that the large whirlpool tub was in Carlisle and Esme's bathroom. She glanced at him, catching his gaze in the rearview mirror. He was just closing his phone; he had been speaking very quietly with Esme.

"I don't want to impose," she began.

Carlisle smiled gently. "It's no imposition at all, Bella. Esme is eager to see you. She's preparing some lunch for you, and after you eat you and Edward can have a nice, long soak in the tub."

Her cheeks turned pink. "But," she dropped her voice,"I don't have my bathing suit with me."

"Alice," I reminded her.

Her eyes widened momentarily as her beautiful lips formed an O. Her heat sped up a little again; clearly she was envisioning with dread my sister's choices in swimwear. I imagine my heart rate would have increased, too, if it were able. Enticing images of Bella wearing the skimpiest of bikinis which exposed endless expanses of her smooth, perfect skin bombarded me. Forcefully I dashed them from my mind, vowing to turn away from the television whenever those infernal Victoria's Secret commercials aired…

My voice was slightly husky as I croaked, "Don't worry. We'll find you something that you feel comfortable in, no matter what she's picked out for you."

Carlisle was trying to suppress a chuckle, but I heard it in his thoughts anyway. I sent him a mild glare. This was serious; there was nothing humorous about it.

_Edward, _he admonished lightly, _stop worrying. It will be fine. I believe Esme still has a swimsuit from the 1950s. If necessary, I'm sure Bella could borrow it… _

Then his thoughts flashed on Esme wearing ever-smaller bathing attire throughout the years, and I had to groan, "Carlisle, please! You aren't helping!"

* * *

><p>Esme welcomed Bella with her usual warmth, thanking her sincerely for her actions at the bank. My mother fretted over her hand, asking how much it had hurt and worrying that it still pained her. She insisted that Carlisle remove the bandage and check it. He assured all of us that the cut was healing well.<p>

Alice and Jasper joined us in the kitchen, where Bella ate a slice of the quiche Esme had prepared. My sister was almost giddy with anticipation as she urged Bella to eat faster so that she could take her upstairs and show her the selection of bathing suits she had gathered. I noticed that Bella's appetite disappeared after this.

Jasper stood back a bit. He had caught a tiny whiff of blood when Carlisle took the bandage from Bella's hand. Still, Jasper smiled at her, and when she set down her fork he stepped quickly to her and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze of gratitude.

"We watched the tape," he told her. "You did everything right. Thank you, Bella."

Emmett came bounding down the stairs, sounding like three herds of elephants. I noticed that his hair was slightly tousled and suddenly realized what he and Rosalie had been doing. Fortunately he had the courtesy to keep his recent memories out of his mind and focus on his newest little sister.

"How're you doing, Bella?" he asked as he swooped in and lifted her from her chair in a massive hug.

"Oh…kay," she managed as the breath left her body.

"Emmett!" Esme scolded. "Bella needs to breathe!"

Without a hint of chagrin, he set her on her feet, saying, "Oops. Sorry! Damn, sister, you were amazing at the bank!"

Bella responded with a blush.

"Okay," Alice chirped, taking Bella's hand. "Now I get you for a little while. Come on and see what I've picked out for you to wear in the Jacuzzi!"

"Alice," I began in a warning tone.

But she just shook her head and dragged Bella away.

* * *

><p>As it turned out, my sister had managed some restraint and, among the extremely skimpy bikinis consisting of mere scraps of fabric, had set out a more modest ensemble that she called a "tankini." It had a cropped camisole-type top and bottoms made of more fabric than the teeny triangles that comprised the other suits. It was a rich sapphire hue, and the moment I saw it through Alice's thoughts I hoped Bella would choose it.<p>

In case she didn't, I was prepared to offer her a pair of my silk boxers and one of my more fitted tee shirts squirreled away from the 1980s. Fortunately my sartorial assistance was not required, and soon Bella joined me in the spacious bathroom, where I had the tub ready for her.

She wore a short, flowered robe over her swimsuit. I had donned long swim trunks but had kept my oxford on, although the sleeves were rolled up and I had undone the top few buttons.

I patted the stack of large, thick towels I had set beside the tub. She walked slowly, still favoring her left leg, and I rose quickly to take her elbow and escort her to the Jacuzzi.

"I think the temperature will be comfortable for you," I told her.

She nodded, and her cheeks flushed once again as she removed the robe. I was delighted to see that she had indeed selected the blue tankini. The color was lovely against her skin, and it made her hair even glossier and her eyes even brighter.

"That's pretty," I said. "I like the color on you."

Her blush deepened. "Alice thought you would. Thank goodness she had this one. Everything else was…"

"I know," I acknowledged, once again forcing those other images from my mind. Yes, Bella had picked the best bathing suit; indeed she had, absolutely, positively, undoubtedly… I cleared my throat. "Are you ready to get in?"

"Yes."

After removing my shirt, I stepped into the warm, bubbling water then lifted her carefully and set her on one of the sculpted seats. She sighed as the warmth spread through her.

"Oh, this feels nice," she breathed. "Thank you."

We sat quietly for a few minutes as the heat swirled around us. Bella had relaxed almost immediately, resting her head against the padded edge of the tub. Her eyes were half-closed.

"How does your leg feel now?" I asked.

She opened her eyes. "Better, I think."

"May I try something? I think it will help."

She nodded. "Okay."

I moved closer to her and rested one hand on her right leg, just above her knee.

"Oh!" she squeaked in surprise.

"I'm sorry," I began quickly, starting to pull my hand away.

Immediately she took my wrist and returned my hand to its position. "No, Edward, it feels nice. I just wasn't expecting your hand to be so _warm_."

I shook my head. "You flinch when I'm warm, but not when I'm cold!" Even as I said it, a smile tugged at my lips.

She shrugged, grinning back at me. "It's all what you're used to, I suppose." Then, a bit more softly, she added, "But I like having you touch me, either way."

I kissed her cheek. "I like touching you, too."

I wanted rather desperately to kiss her lips, but this was a therapeutic situation, and I was here in a professional context, so I pulled back slightly and focused my thoughts on a careful visualization of each muscle, nerve pathway, and bone in her delicate leg. I did not dwell on the utter silkiness of her skin…

Kneeling before her, I lifted her ankle and placed her foot against my leg. Then I slid up my hands and began gently massaging the area around the break.

"All right?" I inquired after perhaps half a minute. I needed to be certain that I was not causing her any discomfort. Her heart rate had increased incrementally.

"Yes. It's… good." She smiled, and one of her hands came to rest on my shoulder. Her fingers traced lightly down the curve and over my bicep. "Mmm, nice," she murmured.

I spent several more minutes working on her leg, then I settled beside her. She shifted so that she could lean her head against my chest, and my arms automatically wrapped around her. I kissed her crown, and she lifted her chin to capture my mouth in a soft kiss.

I cupped her cheek in my hand. "Thank you, and I'm sorry," I said simply, hoping she would know what I meant.

"Edward, stop," she replied. "I'm okay, you and your family are okay, and Mark is going to be okay … everything is fine now." She rubbed her fingertip gently at the crease between my eyebrows. "There's nothing to worry about now."

I took her hand and kissed her fingers. But when I looked up at her, I saw that her brow had tightened.

"Bella?" I asked. "What is it? What's the matter?"

She gave a little shake of her head. "Nothing, really. I was just wondering if Charlie called that person from the bank. Do you think there will be any problems?"

I smiled. "None at all. Alice told me that the bank is going to offer you and me free services, and when the CEO finds out that you didn't get to make your deposit and get the CD, he's going to pull some strings and offer you that 5.2 percent rate."

"Really? That's great!"

"There's only one hitch," I informed her, my expression sobering.

She frowned, deflating. "What's that?"

"Emmett and Jasper insist on accompanying us to the bank this time, Emmett as your physical bodyguard and Jasper as your emotional one."

Bella began to laugh. "Really? That's so sweet!"

I had seen nothing but gravity in my brothers' requests. After all, their presence would not be an issue if Bella had not faced danger in her first attempt to purchase the CD. Yet she found the humor in it.

"My own, personal vampire secret service!" she said with delight.

I realized that she was responding to the affection this showed, not to the implications or memories about the danger she had faced. Her laughter was infectious, and I could not remain somber for long. Soon I was chuckling, too.

"I think," she said as her giggles slowed, "I just might be the luckiest girl in the world."

A thousand contradictions to this statement immediately crowded my mind, but I could not voice them to her. She was happy and comfortable, and I knew that, in this moment, she was absolutely sincere.

I pulled her closer to kiss her gently then said, "And I am, truly, the luckiest boy."

* * *

><p><em>The End<em>

**Note:** _I have two other stories that I am considering posting here. Like "Risk and Return," both are posted elsewhere, but if readers are interested I'd be glad to share them. One story features Edward, Bella, and Carlisle traveling to Mexico for a good cause. The other is set during a senior class trip that doesn't go quite the way everyone had hoped; it includes Bella, Edward, Alice, Jasper, and Carlisle. If you're interested in one or both stories, please let me know!_


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